To Feel Again
by redhead414
Summary: People we love, and love us in return, have an uncanny ability to forgive us for all the other times when we manage to royally botch it up; **this started out as a one-shot but is evolving into a series of events that take place within the universe of the first chapter. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_**My first Romione story - which managed to break the writer's block I had in regards to my other stories that I'm currently trying to finish.  
**_

_**A big R/H shipper (though previously written stories say otherwise) - I have been nervous to write one - as a lot of R/H stories here are terribly amazing, and I didn't think I had the ability to keep up. Hopefully those who enjoy R/H stories will find a way to enjoy this as well.**_

* * *

"Maybe we should keep the house? Use it as a rental property…or a vacation home when London becomes too dreary during the winter?"

Hermione heard her mother speaking, but the words weren't quite registering. Since she successfully restored her parents' memories, she'd been helping tie up her parents' affairs in Sydney. Their house was a quaint, ocean view bungalow where Hermione spent time walking with her parents, barefoot on the beach, as she recounted the past year to them, one piece at a time. She sat out on the long porch swing, holding a bottle of water with two hands as the bottom of it perched atop the knees she had bent up to her chest.

"Hermione? Darling? Are you there?"

She looked up, wisps of her hair fluttering back in the warm breeze as she wore her unruly mane back in a curly ponytail. "Sorry…I guess my head was somewhere else."

Jean Granger chuckled lightly as she sat down next to her daughter, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, taking note once again of her unusually thin frame. "I know we've talked a lot this summer…about everything you and your friends went through…but I don't think I've told you how sorry I am. How sorry both your father and I are, that we were unable to protect you."

Her eyes widened in horror. "Sorry? Why on earth would either of you be sorry? I'm the one that used magic against you! I'm the one that moved your entire life! If anyone should be sorry it's me - and I am - truly. I just didn't know how to save you. It was the only thing I could think of at the time."

"But we're your parents," Jean argued. "You'll understand what I mean…someday when you have children of your own."

Hermione dropped her head onto her mother's shoulder and sighed. "No one could protect us. We hardly knew how to protect ourselves," she confessed. "We were just making it up as we went along. Half the time we had no idea what we were doing." This was the honest truth of it all, when Hermione reflected on the past year. There were moments where she had no idea how she was even still alive - how any of them were alive. Harry, her parents, Ron - the odds were stacked so high against them but somehow, in the end, they were all standing.

Well, not all of them were standing. While she spent the summer with her parents, she knew the Weasley family was back where they belonged at the Burrow, mourning the loss of Fred. Harry's letter last week said that George was doing a bit better, but was still refusing to step foot in the shop. Hermione wrote back, and told Harry to tell the others to give him time. _He'll go when he's ready_, she wrote back with a heavy heart.

"You're certain about going back to school?" she heard her mother ask gently, feeling her fingers tuck some of the loose strands of hair back behind her ear like she used to do when Hermione was a little girl.

She nodded quickly, her fingers denting the bottle some more in a rushed, jerky rhythm. "I have to go back. I've worked too hard to quit."

"I was wondering where my girls went." Hermione and Jean both looked over their right shoulders and found Richard Granger standing on the porch in a very busy beach shirt with his khaki shorts. "Is there room on that swing for me?"

Hermione nodded, patting the empty space on her other side.

Richard took a seat next to his daughter and linked an arm with hers; clapping both of his hands around one of hers as she willingly relinquished her two handed hold on the water bottle. "Everything's packed. The movers say that everything we're shipping should arrive back home in a few days."

"Great," Hermione absently replied, her focus back out on the ocean, watching as the waves from the tide folded over one another as the beach soaked up what it could before the water's inevitable retreat.

Jean and Richard exchanged glances, the same glance as they both had an unspoken moment regarding the wellbeing of their daughter. "Button," Richard said, using the pet name he'd had for his only child since she was an infant - due to his infatuation with what he often referred to as her absolutely adorable button nose. "Are you sure you're ok to go back to school? We know you've…you've been through a lot, and your mother and I just want what's best for you."

"Obviously with what you've been through, you'll never be the same," Jean sympathetically replied. "But you've been staring off a bit more than usual."

The sound of the ocean was a relaxing one, lulling even as Hermione breathed in sync with the slow rolling tide. She found it calming when her mind began to wander. She'd been in Australia since May 6th - three entire months - and she missed London. She missed the smell of freshly mowed grass at the Burrow and the sound of the lopsided cuckoo bird that lunged out of the infamous Weasley clock at the top of every hour. It was the longest she'd been separated from Harry since the summer before their sixth year. She would ask him how he was coping in each letter, and he always responded with _come home and you'll find out_.

Aside from the brief moment during the year when Ron deserted her and Harry because of that bloody horcrux, it was the longest she'd been away from Ron since fifth year - when she spent the majority of the summer with the Weasleys instead of touring Europe with her parents. She would ask Harry how Ron was in her letters as well, and Harry would always say _he misses you. He won't say it out loud - because he's a stubborn fool - but he misses you. We all do_. She missed him too, of course. Despite their heated kiss in the midst of a battle, Hermione wasn't really sure where either of them stood with one another. They found out about Fred's death soon after that kiss, and suddenly nothing in regards to the two of them seemed important anymore. Ron lost a brother. Molly and Arthur lost a son. George lost his other half. At that moment, all that mattered was defeating Voldemort. The kiss they shared wasn't anywhere on anyone's radar.

At least, she didn't think it was.

But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss Ron. She missed him every day. The longer she was away, the dull ache in her chest grew. She'd call him on the phone she knew Arthur had so she could hear his voice, but knew Ron felt awkward using the muggle device, and his end of the conversation would be a lot of hmm-ings and a lot of uh-huhs. She wrote him a letter once a week, always careful to keep her feelings somewhat reigned in on the chance that he'd changed his mind over the summer. His replies were always short, evading any question she may have asked. Hermione couldn't complain though. The fact that he even bothered writing back at all - as often as he did no less - spoke volumes in itself.

"Hermione? Hermione are you hearing me?" Jean asked again, brushing a hand over Hermione's head.

Nodding quickly, she looked over at her mother and gave a weak smile. "I just miss home," she confessed, hoping for the moment that it was a vague enough answer to her mother's inquiry.

* * *

"Just send it."

Ron looked up at Harry and scowled. "Don't you have a girlfriend to snog?"

"Are you encouraging me to snog your sister?"

"I am if it means that you leave me alone."

Harry plopped down on the sofa next to him, looking at what appeared to be several pieces of parchment with his chicken scratch handwriting adorning each page. "If you wait too much longer, it won't get to her before she gets on the plane."

Ron groused, dropping the quill in his hand on top of the thin stack of parchment. He'd been working on this particular letter all summer. Every time he thought he finished it, he would think of something else, but now, now he had nothing else to say. Everything was written down on paper. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he could think of that she would want to hear - that he needed her to read - was stained in ink against the cream colored parchment. He made a special trip to Diagon Alley to purchase this particular stack of parchment. He knew it was Hermione's favorite. _It has the best smell,_ she would always say at the beginning of each year. _Wouldn't you agree?_

In Ron's opinion - parchment was parchment – though he always agreed with her when she asked. In a noncommittal way, of course. He never wanted to appear too enthusiastic to agree with her, unless of course he'd rightly mucked things up. Like he did earlier in the year when he left the two of them alone in the forest. A large part of the letter he'd written was himself expressing a comprehensive apology for leaving the two of them. He confessed to her about what the locket said to him when Harry opened it the night he returned, knowing he'd never be able to speak about the events, or the scene that played before him while his best friend screamed from the other side to kill it.

"You know you'll never give it to her in person," Harry urged, a gentler tone in his voice as he nudged his best friend.

"I know," Ron confessed.

"She loves you."

"You don't know that."

Harry could hardly stifle the snort. "No. Of course not. There's no way I could know that she loves you - with the numerous fights I've been subjected to by the two of you over the years, or how she cried when she saw you snog Lavender, or the nights she spent sobbing, praying for your return when you left. She also snogged the living daylights out of you after you wanted to warn the house elves. But you're right - there's no way she loves you. Not even the slightest bit. Just ignore me. I have no idea what I'm saying."

Ron's cheeks faintly blushed at the mention of their untimely kiss. He hardly knew what to do with himself when he suddenly found her lunging towards him, her arms thrown around his neck. But the moment her lips found his - he knew that moment would be one of the best moments of his entire life. "You really think she loves me?"

"Yes," Harry decisively replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

He sighed, his lips bumbling as he exhaled. "I left her."

"You came back."

"But I left her," Ron repeated. "She begged me to stay and I left her."

"But you came _back_," Harry emphasized. "And she's forgiven you. She knew it was the horcrux telling you to leave."

Ron scoffed. "And I was just a weak git, not able to block out the lies it was telling me."

"It was dark magic - it made all of us mental."

"You didn't leave."

"It didn't affect me the way it affected you," Harry rebutted.

The two friends sat in silence; the only noise was from the clock on the wall. Ron glanced up at it, watching the second hand tick as the arms up top pointed to where everyone was. His dad put two new arms on it over the summer - one for Harry and one for Hermione a few weeks after Hermione had left for Australia. Those first few weeks, Ron was quite convinced that he would go mental before Hermione came home. He constantly worried about her, and wished her letters would come daily instead of weekly. _I'm not sending a letter daily_, she told him in a letter the first week she was gone. _Do you know how long of a flight that is for an owl? It's cruel! A letter a week will have to do_ - _the owl is still quicker than the muggle post_. Ron knew his dad put the arm up for Hermione to make him feel better, seeing it consistently point to away instead of somewhere worse. He also knew he put one up for Harry not only because he was a part of the family, but so that he didn't get too much of a ribbing from his brothers - which would have been embarrassing if an arm had only been placed for her.

Ron wouldn't mind a good ribbing from George though, if he were honest. Hearing George taking the mickey out of him would mean that he was feeling better - maybe not a lot, but a little bit. He'd yet to play a single prank all summer, but his mum wasn't worried. _Georgie will snap out of it when he wants to_, his mum would say as she fussed around the kitchen. _His loss is a bit different than ours. He'll come back to us when he's ready_.

He scratched the back of his neck as he stared at the letter. "When does her flight leave?"

"Tomorrow at 9:50pm Sydney time. She'll arrive at Heathrow at 3:00pm on Saturday."

"That's like, an entire day!" Ron exclaimed. "Why does it take so long?"

Harry laughed. "Australia is a bit of a jaunt. It's practically on the other side of the earth - so far the Ministry doesn't even allow you to disapparate there from here because it's too far - you'd be splinched halfway there. Kingsley offered to set up port keys, but Hermione said she'd prefer to fly the muggle way."

Ron shuddered at the thought of being splinched - again. "She mentioned something about a layoff in her last letter."

"A layover," Harry nonchalantly corrected him. "They have a three hour layover in Abu Dhabi - it's in the Middle East - near Egypt."

_You're not still showing that bloody picture to everyone are you_? Ron could hear Fred asking him in his head, back from when they went to Egypt as a family the summer before his third year. "I wouldn't mind going back to Egypt. It was an amazing trip."

Harry smirked. "Take Hermione with you when you go. She loves history - and was put out all summer when she thought about all the ancient artifacts you were getting to see, and how you probably weren't appreciating it properly."

"I probably didn't," Ron replied with a half laugh. "Do you think she's going to go back to school?"

"Of course she is."

"I figured as much," he said with a heavy sigh. "I don't think I can go back. And not just because of Fred."

"I know," Harry replied, understanding and sharing the sentiment. "I'm taking up Kingsley's offer - I start auror training the third week of September. Are you coming with?"

Ron shook his head and picked up the parchment from the coffee table, folding it over three times. He pressed his fingers firmly into each crease. "I'm deferring admittance until January. George…he'll eventually go back to the shop, and when he does, I want to help." Grabbing the envelope his mother gave him earlier that morning, he carefully placed the slightly thick bundle into the envelope and sealed its shut with his wand. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

He scratched his nose before picking up the quill, dipping it in ink so he could address the letter to Hermione. "When we were on the horcrux hunt…when you were away from Ginny…how did it feel?"

Harry was unsure how to answer the question, knowing he was treading a fine line between best friend and overly protective brother when it came to Ginny. "Like, how did it feel being away from her?"

Ron nodded as he finished addressing the letter. "When I left you two…I felt guilty and I felt ashamed. When we left her at the airport in May, I felt…I don't know. It was different - Like I know my heart's beating, but I don't feel it working."

"It's numb," Harry stated.

"Yeah! Exactly!" Ron exclaimed, relieved that Harry understood him.

"That's how I felt when we left Ginny at the wedding," Harry replied. "And when I would watch her footprints on the Marauders Map…my soul…it just felt…empty."

Nodding, Ron slouched back against the well-used sofa and sighed. "Merlin…we sound like a couple of poufs, talking like this. Hermione once told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon."

Harry laughed as he too, slouched back against the couch. "I remember that day."

"There's more than a teaspoon in that letter," Ron decisively stated. "I just hope I didn't ruin everything…and that what I wrote her is enough to fix it."

Clapping a reassuring hand on Ron's shoulder, he squeezed it ever so slightly and nodded towards the letter. "People we love, and love us in return, have an uncanny ability to forgive us for all the other times when we manage to royally botch it up."

Sighing, Ron summoned every ounce of courage he had and pulled himself up off of the couch, snatching his letter as he stood upright. "I love her. I reckon I always have."

"I know you do."

"I can't…I don't feel anything without her."

Harry scratched the back of his head. "I swear, mate, she feels the same way."

"She loves me?"

"She loves you."

Ron looked back at his best friend and raised his brow. "If you're wrong about this, I'll bloody kill you."

"Go ahead," Harry replied with a cocky smirk. "But we both know I'm right."

* * *

"One last walk along the beach?" Hermione asked her parents as they walked towards her. It was nearly dusk, the cool breeze from the ocean lightly flowing through the air as the sun disappeared.

Richard pecked his wife's cheek as he held her hand. "It's one of the things we'll definitely miss. You certainly picked a beautiful spot to send us, Button."

Hermione gave a small smile as she stood next to the rental car. Her beaded bag was all she planned on taking with her on the plane. Her parents thought she was mental, but when she showed them the undetectable extension charm and feather charm, they demanded she do the same to their bags so that they could pack a few extra things to keep them amused during the two long flights back home.

"Why did you pick Sydney, anyway?" Jean inquired as she slipped her feet back into her sandals.

Pulling her wand from her pocket, she muttered a quick _scourgify _at her parents feet, ridding them both of the gritty feel of the small granules of sand that stayed against their skin despite several quick brushes. "I wanted you both as far away as possible…and this was as far away as I could think of."

Eyeing his daughter, Richard approached her and placed his strong hands softly against her almost full cheeks. His wife had been feeding her every chance she had, and while she was still too thin for his tastes, her cheeks weren't as gaunt as they were when their memories were restored. He Eskimo kissed her nose with his and then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You're a very brave girl, Hermione Jean. I couldn't be more proud of you - my brilliant little witch."

She blushed as his thumbs brushed against her cheekbones. "I'm not little anymore, Daddy."

"You're always little to me," Richard promised. "Now, are we ready to get back home?"

Hermione enthusiastically nodded. "Very much so."

Richard dug the car keys from his pocket and tossed them back to his wife, who had been the 'driver' of the family for as long as Hermione could remember. Her mother said it was because her father drove like a lunatic, and she preferred to arrive at her destination in one piece. Her father argued that it wasn't him that was the bad driver - but instead it was all of the other idiots on the road who couldn't follow signs. When Hermione got ready to learn to drive, it took about ten minutes into the lesson with her father before realizing that her mother was right – he wasn't just terrible at driving – he was downright awful.

Sitting in the back seat with his daughter, Richard was all too pleased when Hermione curled up against him, just as she did when she was little. Many a time was spent between the two of them, just like this when she was younger, and then over the summer when she came home from school. He kissed the top of her head and felt her sigh against him. "Did you read your letter from Ron yet?"

She shook her head no as her mother glanced at the two of them through the rearview mirror. "I opened it…but figured I'd save it for the plane. It'll give me something to read."

"Like you're going to run out of things to read," Jean replied with a laugh. "I saw you pack that bag. You have a miniature library in there. What do you have those books for anyway?"

"Homework," Hermione replied. "I like to read ahead before school starts so I'm adequately prepared for lessons."

"Adequately prepared," Richard scoffed playfully. "I'm sure you're always more than adequately prepared for anything, Button."

"Of course," Hermione outwardly agreed, though internally she still beat herself up over not having been more prepared before she, Ron, and Harry left for the horcrux hunt. She should have thought more about food. She should have been quicker to change direction when disapparating from Yaxley's hold so that Ron's arm wouldn't have been splinched so terribly. She could name a hundred more things if she thought about it hard enough, but what was the point? The war was over, and their side won. Everything else – the uncertainty of everything, the horror, the hunger, the torture, and the kiss – was all in the past.

It wasn't hard maneuvering through the Sydney airport. Their luggage was quickly checked, their rental car was returned, and before Hermione realized it, their boarding call was echoing throughout the intercom system. That must have been the beauty of a late night, international flight, Hermione thought to herself as she sat down next to her parents in the waiting area next to their departing gate. The Ministry was much too generous in her opinion, flying her to Australia on a first class ticket and then flying her and her parents back the same way. Of course, Kingsley wouldn't hear any of her arguments. _It's the very least we can do_, he implored, and Hermione eventually gave up fighting him.

Each first class passenger was designated an individual pod to sit in, complete with a chair that turned into a bed, a television to watch movies, and pillows to make their long flight more comfortable. Hermione sat in the middle pod of the three seats reserved in the vertical row under Granger. Her father was in front of her, her mother behind her. The nerves pooling in her stomach were almost enough to make her wretch, but she quelled the urge as one flight attendant passed out complimentary headphones and eye masks while another secured the doors. She ignored the mundane instructions as to what passengers should do in case of an emergency and rooted through her bag, elbow deep for a few moments until she found the thick envelope she was looking for.

Hermione was quite surprised at the volume of the envelope as she immediately recognized Ron's handwriting on the outside. She assumed he sent other letters along with his - sometimes he put in a letter from his sister - though the end result was never this hefty. Carefully, she peeled the envelope open as the plane began its ascent into the sky and pulled out what seemed to be not just a few - but several pieces of parchment. Quickly scanning them, she recognized his handwriting on every page, and her heart jumped a little bit. Was a good thing he wrote this much? Was it a bad thing? Ron wasn't a writer. He moaned and groaned at any sort of homework scroll that required more than six lines. Yet here in her hands were at least five pages, filled from top to bottom, with his words.

The nerves in her stomach were proving hard to suppress as her eyes glanced across the beginning of the letter – but she was not about to lose her dinner over a letter. Silently reprimanding herself to pull it together, she felt the plane level itself out from the prior ascent, the seatbelt light dinging before clicking off. Hermione curled up with the small airplane pillow, hitting the button to recline her seat while the front of it extended with a footstool to support her legs, and began to read.

_Hermione,_

_I should have put dear in front of your name, I reckon, but I didn't think about it until this moment. I've started this letter loads of times, but this one I've managed not to crumple up and toss in the rubbish bin. I of course burned all of the ones I tossed – can't risk anyone finding all of them and wondering if I've lost my bloody mind. _

_I'm glad you're coming home this week. Mum and Dad say we can go to the airport to greet you. Me, Harry, Ginny, and Mum and Dad anyway. Everyone else is gone. Charlie went back to Romania on Monday, Bill and Fleur are with her parents for a few weeks, and George…well, he's getting better I reckon. He comes downstairs now and eats with us. Of course he doesn't say much, but no one pushes him. We're just glad he comes downstairs at all. _

_With you gone all summer, it's given me a lot of time to think about things…things that I've completely buggered up over the years, and how I probably owe you a million apologies over the years we've known each other, and there's loads of things I wish I could take back. I'm sure you know that though – of course – with the way I've acted, I'm sure you've given up on waiting for an apology. I wouldn't blame you if you did, though after thinking this entire summer, I'm rather surprised you're still my friend at all. I don't deserve a friend like you, Hermione. But I wish I did._

She didn't notice the tears that slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes as she moved onto the next page until they landed on the parchment.

_I wish I could take back so many things. I wish I hadn't called you mental during first year. Everyone knows you were in the bathroom all day crying about what I said. You wouldn't have been in danger with the troll if I wouldn't have been so cruel. _

_I wish I hadn't laughed at you when you turned into a cat after we used that first batch of polyjuice potion. I knew you were embarrassed, and I knew you handled embarrassment just about as well as I did – or do. I should have hugged you instead of laughing at you. I did give you my only chocolate frog though when we came to see you in the infirmary. You were asleep though, and I didn't put my name on it, so you probably didn't even know it was me who left it for you. _

_I should have asked you to that stupid Yule Ball. I wanted to ask you – I did – I was just terrified you would've said no. I expected as much, knowing you could do better. Not every girl gets asked to a dance by a world famous quidditch player, but of course you would. I kept telling myself you were making up your 'date' – that you just wanted to save face in front of me and Harry – but I mostly kept telling myself that you were making it up because the thought of you going to a dance with someone other than me…it made me feel like the biggest prat in the world because I could've, and should've asked you first. But I didn't. It's just as well, I guess. You were beautiful that night, and had you gone with me, you would have been standing next to a clown. _

_I never told Mum this – but I burned those robes that night. It was, honestly, the only proper thing to do with them._

Hermione stifled a laugh. She thought their room smelled a bit off the next day, though neither Harry nor Ron was talking about it. _It smells like something's burning_, Ginny had said with a turned up nose, while Hermione agreed. _Seamus blew up another spell_, Harry easily lied for Ron, who was still embarrassed by his actions the night before. _At first I thought it was his wand…now I just think it's the operator, _Harry added for a good laugh.

She moved onto the next page, her breath catching as her eyes continued to follow the scratchy script.

_I never should have kissed Lavender. I never should have dated her. I never should have let her parade me in front of you. I knew it bothered you. I told myself you were just mad because we didn't hang out anymore, but a part of me knew. A part of me that was too scared to admit my feelings for you knew that you had to have felt the same way. Why else would you have been so mental? Why else would I've felt so guilty?_

_I know I muttered your name in my sleep after being poisoned. I almost told you that I knew once, but then Harry came back with that fake locket, Dumbledore died, and I knew that everything was about to change for the worse._

_I should have kissed you the night we moved Harry to the Burrow. I saw the relief on your face when you flung your arms around my neck and hugged me once Tonks hopped off the broom and I morphed back into, well, me. I'd waited years for you to hug me like that – the same way you always hugged Harry when he returned to us unscathed all those times and the one time you did it – all I could do was be a git and assume that your tone of surprise was not in awe, but in shock that I could handle something dangerous. It was never me doubting your sincerity – it was always me and the voice in my head that assumed you didn't want me…the way I wanted you. After all – what's so special about me? I'm just Ron Weasley. The youngest Weasley boy. Nothing I ever did was first – my brothers made sure of that. Then Harry came into our family and competing with the Boy-Who-Lived was never going to get me anywhere. Not that I regret befriending Harry. He's my best mate. But I wished my mum fussed over me sometimes in the same way she fusses over him._

_Except this summer, of course. I've not really wanted to be around anyone, and Mum's decided to focus on Harry while she does her best to respect George's need for space. Harry lets her of course, and to be honest, he probably deserves it more than anyone I reckon. It's the first summer since he found out he was a wizard that he hasn't had to think about defeating Voldemort. The first summer for us too, I reckon._

"Hermione? Darling are you alright? You're crying!"

Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw her mother staring at her with utter concern. "I'm fine," she promised, wiping her stray tears away with the back of her hand. "I'm just…reading Ron's letter."

"Is everything ok?"

She nodded, handing her mother the first three pages she'd managed to finish.

Jean hesitated for a moment before taking the parchment. "You sure this isn't…private?"

"It's ok," Hermione reassured her mother. She resituated herself in her seat, sniffling slightly as she moved onto finish the rest of the letter.

_I know I tried apologizing to you…you know…after I left…and Harry swears you've forgiven me but I'm not sure you can because you don't know the story. If I were in your shoes, there's no way I'd have forgiven you for deserting me. Of course, I would never have to worry about that, as you've always been loyal to a fault. You wouldn't have left like I did, no matter how mental you were because of a horcrux._

_I was hurt from the splinching, despite your amazing attempts to heal me as fast as you could. You really ought to consider a career as a healer, though I know you'd rather be fighting for the rights of elves, werewolves, and others who need someone to be a voice for them. That damn horcrux…every time I wore it I could hear it filling my brain with lies, but the longer I wore it the more vulnerable I became, and the lies started to feel like reality. _

_It was hard not to believe that you would prefer to be with Harry over me. After all, Harry never made you cry. He never called you insufferable, or mental, or made you feel like you didn't matter. I did all those things. I can't count how many times Harry had to explain you to me, always with this look on his face, as if he were telling me to quit being so thick – but I could hardly help it! My feelings for you were always so confusing that the only way I knew how to be was thick! He's also better looking than me I reckon. He might be a gangly, specky-eyed git, but it's probably better than being a ginger. He can at least hide his scar – my hair may as well be a neon sign shouting to everyone that I'm one of many, poor Weasleys roaming about the Wizarding world. _

_When I saved Harry from the pond – when he found the sword Snape left for him – he made me be the one to kill it. He said I had to, because if I didn't, there was no reason to be back. So he opened it, speaking to it with parseltongue and when it opened…I can't describe it. It was so much worse than the diadem, or the Hufflepuff Cup. It was personally attacking me, telling me that my fears were true. Then it manifested a version of you and Harry – telling me – taunting me that I was nothing. That you were better without me. That my mother would have rather had Harry as a son, and that you could never love me. That was the final straw – the horcrux version of you telling me that I was nothing. But I'm not nothing! So I channeled my rage and ran at it like a crazy man and the horcrux was dead with one strike. _

Choking back a sob, Hermione wordlessly handed the finished page backwards to her mother, who took it without looking up, as she too was engrossed with the letter. She was embarrassed that Ron felt that way – that he felt like she didn't think he was good enough. Of course she thought he was good enough. She'd been in love with him since fourth year! Every time Victor tried to kiss her during fourth year, she ducked; because all Hermione could think of was Ron, and how she wished he would have plucked up the courage to choose, to want, to even love her.

_I meant every word I said to you when I came back. I heard you through the deluminator. I heard you say my name. I heard the tone of your voice, the pleading, and I knew the deluminator would bring me back to you, and it did. I'll always be grateful to Dumbledore for leaving it to me. It was a lifesaver. It brought me back to you, and I swear, Hermione, the moment I left I knew it was a mistake. _

_I'll tell you what wasn't a mistake though – and that was the thing we didn't talk about. The kiss. I was surprised, yes, but it was the best sort of surprise, Hermione. Had Harry not told us to knock it off 'til later, I would have been perfectly content to snog you senseless. In fact, when I've missed you the most this summer, I think back to that moment, and hope that maybe, you'll let me return the kiss. After all, I always imagined I'd kiss you first. But had I known that caring about those elves would have inspired you as such, I probably would have joined your S.P.E.W. group with a little more gusto._

_If this summer taught me anything, it's taught me this. I never want to leave you again. _

_I never want you to leave me again. _

_I know it's inevitable though. You're going back to school – and I'm certain you'll be named Head Girl. I'm deferring my auror training until January so I can be here to help George when he decides to reopen the shop. I'll be done with training the same day you'll be finished with school._

_I don't know what the future has in store for you or for me, but I can tell you this – I don't want a future without you in it. I don't care what else happens to me from here on out – I just want you with me. I need you as much as I want you, and I don't care how dumb that sounds. I feel nothing without you. I'm not complete without you._

_I'm sure you think I'm completely mental by now, but I promise I'm as clear headed as ever. Your parents might not find me good enough for their only daughter, but I promise to prove to them that I am good enough, if you'll have me of course. I promise to prove to you every day, if you'll have me, that I'm good enough for you. I'm tired of constantly thinking back to everything I've botched up and ruined between the two of us. I just want to look forward to my future, and I just want you to be a part of it. _

_I really hope you're feeling the same way. I'm going to look like a right fool if you don't. If you don't feel the same way though, could I at least get a hug still when you see me at the airport? I've missed you more than I've ever missed anything – including food – these past three months. I'd settle for a hug from a friend…if that's all you see me as. I hope you don't though. _

_I'm hoping that you love me as much as I love you. _

_See you in a bit,_

_Ron._

Finishing the letter, Hermione wiped away the remainder of her tears, though it proved to be a fruitless effort as more tears continued to spill over her eyelids. Sighing, she re-read the same line over and over again, _I'm hoping you love me as much as I love you_, until her mother beckoned for the final page. "Ronald Weasley," she said under her breath as she finally acquiesced the final page of what was quite possibly the only love letter he would ever write. "What an idiot."

"But he's your idiot," she heard her mother say with an amused tone in her voice.

Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and reached in her bag, rooting around until she felt a familiar scratchy fabric. Pulling it out, she slipped her arms into the maroon jumper and pulled it over her head to warm her up on the crisply cooled airplane. "He is my idiot," she mumbled to herself as her arms crossed against the cream colored "R" that was knit in the middle before lightly dozing off to sleep.

* * *

Ron heard a knock on his bedroom door, finding his sister peeking inside. When they were both little, Ginny used to sneak into his room at night, found by their parents in the morning snuggled up next to each other, their heads barely peeking out from under the covers.

"Can I come in?" Ginny asked, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt. Her long auburn hair was piled up on the top of her head in a messy bun. "Harry's downstairs with George…they're talking to each other."

Arching an eyebrow, he waived his sister in and threw part of his covers away from him. Ginny took this as an open invitation and crawled into bed with her big brother, curling up next to him with her head resting on his shoulder. "Talking's good," Ron said, giving his sister a reassuring hug with one arm. "Harry might be the best sort of person for George to talk to."

Ginny nodded. "That's why I let them be. I didn't want George to stop talking, you know? He needs to talk."

"Maybe they can help each other," Ron suggested before sighing, glancing over at the clock on his nightstand. He wondered where Hermione was at that moment - what part of the world she was flying over - and what she'd thought about his letter. "How have you been doing?" he asked his sister after a few moments of silence washed over the two of them. "I see you and Harry are better."

Nodding again, Ginny shifted closer to her brother and hugged him close to her. "He finally told me everything that happened the other night," she confessed to her big brother. "He told me about the Horcruxes…and what they did to all of you."

His mouth went dry, not really sure what to say to his sister about those bloody pieces of dark, potentially life ruining magic. "It was awful," he managed to speak a few minutes later. "I put something in the letter I sent to Hermione about those damn things. I'm sure she'll want to talk about it, of course, but I reckoned it'd be easier to sort out in person if I wrote to her about it first."

"She loves you Ron," Ginny quietly whispered. "She loves you so much - and Merlin knows you've done your damnedest to muck it up - but she loves you all the same."

Exhaling slowly, he hugged his sister again and pulled the covers up over the two of them. "I hope you're right."

"I am right, you big dolt," his sister scolded with a tired laugh.

Silence fell between them once more, but it was a comfortable one. Ginny was the family member Ron missed the most while they were away last year, naturally, as the two of them were almost as close to each other as Bill and Charlie, or George and Fred. No one was close to Percy - he kept everyone at an arms length - though with his many appearances at the Burrow this summer, both Ron and Ginny both were wondering if he was beginning to regret that mode of operation. Ron was of the opinion that Percy's actions had to speak louder than words at first - that he had to earn his place back into the family he so quickly discarded in pursuit of climbing the ranks in a corruptly run Ministry of Magic. Harry, of course, reminded Ron to not be so harsh with casting stones, as he left and returned, and was accepted no questions asked.

Ron, however, thought their situation was completely different. Percy was gone for years. Ron was gone several weeks, spending each day desperately trying to find a way back to them. He understood Harry's point, though, and managed to keep the sneering and scoffing to a minimum when he came over to the house. George didn't, though. In fact, one of the highlights of the summer was Percy's first visit to the Burrow. He walked over to give George a hug and before he could open his arms, George took one mighty swing and knocked his older brother out, not even bothering to apologize before stepping over Percy and retreating back up to his room. When Percy came to, Charlie was the first to pull him up to his feet, but not before mentioning that Percy had it coming, and George was probably the only one in the room that was really able to get away with such a punch.

"Ron?" he heard his sister's tired voice ask as the second hand on the clock perched on the night stand clicked over to eleven o'clock.

"Yeah Gin."

She yawned, not even bothering to cover her mouth as she shifted slightly against her brother. "You should bring Hermione flowers to the airport. She'd really like that."

"Mmkay," Ron replied, making a mental note to wake up early enough to pick some up for her before they left for the airport. "Do you think George and Harry are still talking?"

Ginny nodded. "Harry said he'd find me when he was done."

"Are you sleeping here until he finds you then?"

She nodded again. "But I never sleep anymore."

"I know the feeling," Ron confessed. "Hermione's parents took her to a muggle healer to get some help so that she could sleep. She told me in one of her letters."

"She told me in her letters that she told her parents everything, and that they instantly forgave her," Ginny said, then yawned again.

"She told me that too," Ron replied. "I know she was nervous about it, but I told her it would be fine."

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

Ginny propped herself up a bit so she could her brother in the eyes. "Could you have done what she did? Could you have oblivated Mum and Dad? If they were in that sort of danger, would you have done what they did?"

Ron sighed, raking a hand through his ginger locks that his Mum trimmed up for him the other day. "Mum and Dad were in the same sort of danger. All of us were. We just knew what we were in for. Hermione's parents are muggles…it's a completely different situation."

"But could you have done it?" Ginny implored. "I couldn't have."

"Me neither," Ron said as he exhaled. "But she didn't have any other choice."

Ginny lay back down and sighed. "You're probably right."

"Go to sleep, Ginny," Ron murmured, his head rolling to it's side against his pillow as he wrapped a protective arm around his little sister.

It was well after two in the morning when Ron felt Ginny shift against him. Cracking an eye open, he squinted an eye open and found Harry gently picking his sister up out of his bed. "Sorry, mate," he whispered as Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck. "George and I didn't realize the time."

"It's fine," Ron mumbled, rolling over to the warm spot on the bed where Ginny was. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" his best friend whispered.

He opened both eyes and stared up at Harry. "Take care of her."

Grinning, Harry cradled Ginny close and kissed her forehead. "Every day, Ron. Every day."

* * *

Traveling long distances by plane always made Hermione tired, and she never understood why. It wasn't like she was doing anything but sitting. Her mother always said though that it was easier to be exhausted by nothing than it was to be by something. The layover in Abu Dhabi allowed Hermione to pick up a few trinkets for her friends back home in some of the shops, but that only killed about twenty minutes of their three hour layover.

Leaning against her father as they sat at the boarding gate, she looked over at her mother, who was clearly watching her. "Is there something on my face?" she joked.

Jean laughed at her daughter's cheeky question as she swept her thin brown hair back, fastening it up and off of her neck with a barrette. "You haven't said much about that letter."

"Because I fell asleep. Best sleep I had in ages, to be honest."

"I can never sleep on airplanes," Richard chimed in. "I did however watch a handful of movies that I had wanted to see for quite some time that I knew your mother would never watch with me - so that was nice."

"Not everyone has the same penchant you do for adolescent humor," Jean replied with a playful scoff. "I assume with it only being four-thirty in the morning, not much is open in terms of food outside of breakfast."

Hermione scrunched her nose up and nodded. She, like her mother, wasn't a big breakfast food eater, outside of some toast and jam. "A coffee shop is open though - and they had some muffins that looked decent," she offered as an alternative.

Jean shook her head. "I'm sure I have a snack in my purse somewhere. We'll be boarding soon anyway."

"What was your mother talking about a moment ago?" Richard asked. "What letter?"

"From Ron," Jean chimed in before Hermione could reply. She gave her mother a look. While she may share everything - not just most things, but everything - with her mother, she was a bit more selective with what she shared with her father regarding boys. Or really, just one boy. "You remember Ron, darling," Jean continued. "Gangly ginger boy, stares at your daughter like he knows he's supposed to do something with her, but is never quite sure what that something is?"

Laughing, Richard nodded as Hermione looked up at him. "Poor lad," he said with a chuckle. "I certainly know the feeling…it certainly took me forever to figure out what to do with your mother."

"He's not kidding, either," Jean quipped, giving her husband a loving, yet ridiculous look.

"He's been writing you all summer though, hasn't he? I was actually surprised, once you gave us our memories back, that he didn't come along with you," Richard said, purposely ignoring his wife's look.

"I told you," Hermione said, looking down at her lap as she played with her hands. "He stayed behind - his family was already upset about Fred. Ron didn't need to leave them. He needed to be with his family." She didn't tell them that he wanted to come, and how they nearly left each other day in a fit of fury because he didn't want her to go alone and she knew his mother needed him to stay. "He's meeting us at the airport though. Him and Harry, and probably Ginny, and his parents."

Her father arched a curious brow, staring at his daughter until she felt the stare enough to look up at him. "Meeting us at the airport, eh? Sounds like something a boy would do for a girl they fancy a bit, doesn't it?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied.

"Was this particular letter different than your other letters?" Richard asked.

"Maybe," she repeated, her cheeks slightly blushing.

"Well, it's about time," Richard replied with a sigh of relief. "I thought the poor boy would never figure it out. Is he going to go back to school with you too?"

She shook her head no, telling them both about the joke shop, and helping his brother until his auror training began at the beginning of the following year. Both parents noticed her demeanor depress slightly as she talked about being separated from both Ron and Harry for the last year of school. "We don't know about our arrangements for school though - for those that are coming back. I'm sure we'll hear something soon though. Ginny is going back too - we'll actually be in the same year, so that will be nice."

Richard moved his arm so that it wrapped around his daughter, her head moving from his shoulder to the side of his chest. "I'm glad you'll have a good friend there then. I wasn't too keen on you going back and being alone."

Hermione nodded as she stifled a yawn. "Harry and Ron already promised to visit whenever they can."

"I'm sure they have," Richard replied, giving his daughter a slight squeeze.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Mum?"

Jean looked at her daughter while blindly pulling a granola bar from her purse. "When we get to the airport…and you see Ron…do you know what you're going to do?"

She shook her head no with a nervous sort of uncertainty.

"What did this letter say?" Richard inquired.

"That he loves our daughter," Jean replied, not fazed a bit as Hermione clapped a hand over her embarrassed face.

Richard looked down at Hermione, gently pulling her hand from her face, waiting until she reluctantly looked back up at him. "Do you love him back?"

All she could do was nod, knowing if she used her voice, there was a good chance it would squeak and crack.

"Then tell him," Richard replied. "Life's too short to spend your time trying to hide from your feelings."

Hermione felt her father's thumb wipe away a tear before it had a chance to fall. "I know it is," she whispered. "But I'm scared."

"Good," Richard sweetly replied. "You should be scared. Because if you aren't afraid of losing him, then you were never meant to have him."

* * *

There was a fresh set of clothes sitting on Ron's dresser when he woke up and returned from the loo that morning. At first, when he picked up the dark maroon t-shirt with thin, cream colored, horizontal stripes, he thought it was just clean, but it felt thick and crisp. The jeans resting underneath were bold and stiff, unlike the jeans he'd always had, which had always been worn by the many brothers before him. He realized they were new clothes when he put them on, remembering the same feeling when he received new pants for school at the beginning of his sixth year, as he was finally taller than the twins and their pants couldn't be magicked any longer than they already were.

When he came downstairs and walked into the kitchen, his mother instantly clapped her hands together as she look a good look at her youngest boy, who was really no longer a boy. "They fit!" She happily exclaimed. "Look, Arthur! Look at how handsome Ronnie looks!"

"Did you buy me new clothes?" Ron asked.

"Of course I did!" Molly exclaimed. "Hermione's coming home today, and I know you've been looking forward to it so I wanted to make sure you had something nice to wear, especially considering she's coming back with her parents."

Arthur looked up from over the morning edition of _The Daily Prophet_ from his seat at the kitchen table and smiled. "Your mum fretted over that outfit for at least twenty minutes in the store, son."

Before Ron knew it, he was hugging his mother tightly, his long, strong arms wrapping around her short frame. Molly hugged him back of course, kissing his cheek as he buried his face into her shoulder. His mother always smelled vanilla, probably from all the baking she did, and it was a scent Ron always found great comfort in, wherever he was. "Thanks, Mum," he finally spoke, returning the kiss on the cheek as he let her go. "You're the best. Really."

Molly waived off his compliment and ushered him over to the table, where she had breakfast already set out on the table. "No thanks necessary. I knew when you willingly got a hair cut last week that you were wanting to look your best. Is she still arriving today?"

"Three in the afternoon," Ron said with a mouthful of biscuit, all the while reaching for some bacon and eggs. He looked around at the table and realized he and his parents were the only ones there. "Where's everyone else?"

Arthur took a sip of his coffee, his eyes still on the paper. "George woke up and decided to pay Verity a visit. I'm not sure what Harry said to him last night, but he certainly looked better than he has in recent days. Harry and Ginny are still asleep."

Nodding, Ron added some bangers and breakfast mash to his plate. "I'm surprised you haven't gone mental about the two of them sleeping in the same room."

"They were going to do it anyway," Arthur said, eyeing his wife who still disagreed with his sentiment, judging by the frown on her face. "Besides - Charlie made Ginny's bedroom door disappear. There's not a whole lot that's going to happen without a bedroom door."

Ron laughed as he shoved some eggs into his mouth. It was the night before Hermione was to fly to Australia when Charlie walked into his old room - which was now Ginny's room - and found the two innocently sleeping, albeit wrapped around one another. Furious, he stormed downstairs, demanding why his baby sister was being allowed to 'sleep' with a man in her bedroom, but Arthur quickly put the kibosh on it. He knew there was no stopping them now that Harry wasn't having to keep her at an arm's length so that he could focus on fighting a war. Charlie, however, did not find his father's response appropriate, so he marched back upstairs and vanished the door to ensure nothing would happen. Ginny was appalled at her oldest brother's reaction to her doing nothing _but_ sleeping with Harry, but when she implored her parents to make him put the door back, Molly replied that the door would not be returning in the foreseeable future.

Arthur folded up the _Prophet_ and placed it on an empty space at the table. He reached over for the coffee pot and carefully refilled his glass as Molly joined the two of them at the table. "Can we speak to you about something, Ron?" he asked his youngest son.

Ron nodded, swallowing the chewed up sausage in his mouth. "What's up?"

"Your mum and I were wondering what the plans were…once Hermione returns," Arthur stated, trying to sound as unassuming as possible. Rumor was that he finally confessed his feelings to Hermione, and by rumor he meant his daughter confessed such knowledge to him last night about what Harry told her about the letter Ron sent, and the news pleased him and Molly greatly. They both had known that Hermione was the girl for him for a long time, but never pushed the subject. Ron was never one to be shoved into a decision. He was the child that always had to figure out whatever 'it' was for himself. The big 'it' of course, in Ron's life - in the opinion of Arthur and Molly Weasley - since about third year, was a used-to-be bushy haired girl who seemingly blossomed into an unassumingly beautiful girl as she grew up before their eyes.

_You and me both_, he thought to himself as he finished off a piece of bacon. "Um, well, I uh…I reckon I'm not sure. She might just go back to her house with her parents…but she might come here…seeing how she's been with them for three months."

"Ronnie," Molly said, looking at her son with a warm smile. "Your father and I know that you and Hermione - Harry too of course - but that you and Hermione have been through a lot, and we know you care for her quite a bit."

"Are you trying to ask me if you need to take away my door too?" Ron tried to joke.

"You're both adults," Molly matter-of-factly replied. "What you choose to do, or not do, is entirely up to you, as long as you're both use your heads about it."

The tips of Ron's ears burned red. "Mum…we aren't…I mean…Hermione and I, you know, we aren't even -"

"But you will be," Molly interrupted with a knowing smile. "A mother can sense these sorts of things, you know."

He didn't bother answering. He was too engrossed in trying to keep his entire face from turning beet red.

"Son, we aren't trying to embarrass you," Arthur stated, as he took his wife's hand with his. "We just, well, we see a lot of us in you and Hermione, and we wanted you to know that if you're serious about her, we'll support you whole-heartedly." Digging a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small box and slid it across the table to his son.

He and Molly both watched as Ron stared at it for a moment, before picking up the box and opening it. "Mum…" Ron said, his voice trailing as he recognized the ruby ring flanked with diamond baguettes on each side. It was the only piece of jewelry he ever remembered his mother wearing. "Mum, this is your ring."

Molly smiled as she shook her head. Holding out her left hand, she showed Ron that she was indeed wearing the exact same ring. "It's a duplicate," she stated. "The ring in the box is the original Weasley ring. It's been in your father's family for generations. It's a special ring you see. The magic in the ring - it's set to duplicate when it senses a strong bond between a Weasley man and his partner, and when it does, the current wearer must then give it up to its newest, rightful owner and wear the replica."

"But…but Bill…but he married Fleur…" Ron stammered, confused as he closed the small jewelry box. "Why isn't Fleur wearing it?"

Molly shook her head. "Fleur is a lovely girl, and while it took a bit, she's grown on me. She's a part of this family in every way, but the ring only duplicates once for each generation, and last night, when it duplicated on my nightstand, your father and I knew that it was because of Hermione."

Ron furrowed his brow, still a bit confused. "So you're saying that it picks who it wants to wear it?"

"Yes," Arthur replied. "You don't have to give it to her right away, of course. The ring is yours for safe keeping until you're ready."

Exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Ron opened the ring box back opened, unable to stop staring at the exquisite piece of jewelry. "Right," he managed to speak a few moments later. "But…but what happens…" his cheeks flushed at the horrible thought, but he felt like it had to be said. "What happens if Hermione…if she doesn't, you know, if she doesn't want to…"

Molly reached across the table and grabbed her son's hand, giving it a fierce squeeze. "She will, Ronnie."

"She will," Arthur repeated his wife's words in a kind, reassuring tone.

"But how do you _know_?" Ron implored.

Arthur gave his son a wry smile and nodded towards the box in his hand. "The ring doesn't just duplicate, son. Not without a reason."

* * *

"Oh God," Hermione murmured to herself for the umpteenth as the their plane finally finished taxing to their arrival gate at Heathrow. "Oh God…oh God…oh God…"

Jean reached over the back of Hermione's seat pod and gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "You worry too much, darling."

"It's been three months!" Hermione hissed, whipping her head around to look her mother in the eye. "Three months since I've seen him!"

Cupping a hand to her daughter's cheek, Jean grazed her thumb against her cheekbone softly. "Which means you should be excited. Not chanting to yourself as if you're about to meet your maker."

Hermione sighed heavily, her hands gripping the back edge of her seat pod for dear life while her father stood up, pulling his and his wife's carry on luggage from the overhead compartments. "He practically poured his soul out to you in a letter, Button," Richard said, placing one small suitcase down in the aisle, then the other. "If anyone should be terrified, it should be Ron. After all, it's not like you were able to send back a reply so he wasn't spending all this time fretting over whether or not you return the feelings."

She looked over at her dad. "Why are you being so rational about all of this?" Hermione asked with an accusatory tone. "Since when are you ok with me even liking boys, let alone dating one? And since when are you on Ron's side?"

Richard laughed as he held a hand out to Jean, unnecessarily helping her up from her seat on the plane. "Because, Button," he began to explain. "You are, much to my dismay, a grown adult, and I knew this day would come. Best I get used to the idea of it all instead of fighting against it."

"He was also Ron once," Jean added, just as she placed a sweet kiss to her husband's scruffy cheek. "Weren't you?"

"I was," Richard admitted to his daughter. "I was intimidated by your mother for many years, but finally, one day, I plucked up the courage and told her how I felt…and the rest was history."

"And believe me - he waited a hell of a lot longer than Ron did," Jean interjected with a teasing tone. "Now, are you going to get up so you can make yourself look like you haven't been traveling for more than 24 hours, or should we just go on ahead, find the Weasleys, and tell them we left you in Abu Dhabi?"

Steeling her nerves, Hermione stood up from her seat and stepped forward in front of her father, her beaded bag hanging across her body. "I love him," she said aloud in a clear, definitive voice.

"You love him," Jean repeated with a warm smile on her face.

"I've always loved him."

"We know," Richard encouragingly replied.

Hermione gave a single nod, her hands wrapped around the strap of her beaded back, up near her chest. "Right. Let's go then."

* * *

Arthur, Molly, Harry, Ginny, and Ron stood outside of the waiting area near the customs exit, waiting for the Grangers to walk down the descending only escalator at any moment. While everyone else managed to stand some what in place, Ron chose to pace back and forth, as he clutched to a bouquet of wildflowers he picked at the Burrow before they left. Ginny tied a bright pink ribbon around the stems before they left for the airport. _They'll fall apart if you don't fasten them with something_, she told him as they stood in the kitchen. He probably should have thought of that, but he never was any good with the romantic stuff.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor, mate," Harry teased. "You'll be six feet under before she arrives if you keep it up."

Ron stopped pacing momentarily and shrugged his shoulders. His palms were sweaty as his nerves began to get the best of him. "She could do better. Hermione. She could do loads better than plain old me."

Harry laced his fingers with Ginny's as he gave his best friend a look. "There might be some truth in that," he teased. "But you're the one she wants."

"Definitely," Ginny stated, beaming brightly at her brother. "I'm sure she's just as nervous as you are, too."

"Bollocks," Ron muttered. "Hermione's never nervous."

"She's always nervous when it comes to you," Harry corrected him. "She just does a good job of hiding it around you."

Scratching the back of his neck, Ron went back to his pacing, glancing over at a gigantic telly a few feet away that displayed all of the arrival information. The board said the plane arrived ten minutes ago, but his father said muggles who come in from other countries have to go through customs, which didn't make sense to either one of them, but it was a muggle rule that travelers couldn't get around.

Arthur left his wife standing next to Ginny and approached his son, wrapping a strong, fatherly arm around his shoulders as they stared at those travelers that began to descend down the escalator from customs. "It's ok to be nervous, son," he said. "She means a lot to you - it's natural to feel what you're feeling."

Ron scoffed. "I feel like there's still a good chance that I can botch everything up."

"We both know you won't," Arthur replied. "She means too much to you."

"She's always meant a lot to me, Dad, and it's not stopped me from being a buggering idiot before," Ron argued. "Who's to say she won't get tired of me always making a mess of things?"

"It's easy to make mess of things when both parties are desperately trying to hide their true feelings."

"Maybe."

Arthur laughed. "Give yourself a little bit of credit, son."

"It's kind of hard…considering my current record."

"Well maybe it's time for a fresh start - for both of you," Arthur encouraged his son. "Wipe the slate clean so you're both on even ground."

Ron nodded, accepting another one-armed hug from his father.

"There's Mr. and Mrs. Granger!" Harry shouted, waving at the pair as they stood on the escalator.

The Grangers waved back, and the group walked over closer, meeting them halfway as hugs were immediately given. Jean's eyes welled with tears as she gave her sincere condolences to both Arthur and Molly about Fred, and Richard gave Harry a fatherly hug, thanking him for taking care of his daughter, though Harry assured him that it was really the other way around for 99% of the time.

While Jean gushed over Ginny, admiring her long, auburn hair and how grown up she looked compared to the last time she'd seen her - at least two summers ago - Richard walked over to Ron and gave him a good clap on the shoulder as he stared at the escalator. "She'll be down in a minute," he reassured Ron. "She popped into the loo one more time, something about looking in a mirror one more time. You know how womenfolk get."

Her nervously laughed, muttering "right" as if he had a clue as to what Hermione's dad was talking about.

"You look like you're going to throw up," Richard teased.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up," Ron confessed with another nervous laugh.

"That's probably not the best way to go about impressing my only daughter."

"You're probably right."

Richard laughed, giving Ron's shoulder a squeeze as the nervous boy took a sudden interest in the tiles pattern adorning the floor. "Relax, Ron. My daughter is head over heels for you, and if you're willing to deal with that stubborn head of hers, then you must be someone special. And from a former nervous man, who to be honest is still quite intimidated by my wife on any given day, I'd take a deep breath, look up, and remind yourself that everything's going to be fine."

* * *

She didn't mean to duck into the public loo near the escalator one more time, but Hermione felt like her nerves really were going to get the best of her for a few moments there. "I'm fine, really," she said to her parents before ducking into the loo. "Just go ahead without me. I'll be down in a minute."

Once inside the public loo, Hermione gave polite and curt nods to those female travelers passing her as she made her way to the full-length mirror on the far wall. When they disembarked from the plane, Hermione found a public loo near the gate and changed out of her traveling clothes and into a fresh summer dress. It was a simple dress, the top half a fresh summer green with a scoop neck and capped sleeves while the dress part was white, falling just to the tops of her knees. She quickly scrubbed her face and applied a hint of makeup while her mother helped her by putting her hair into a cute side braid, since there wasn't much else to do with it after 24-plus hours on an airplane.

Standing in front of a mirror once more, Hermione spit out the spearmint gum she'd been chewing for the past twenty minutes into the rubbish bin and eyed her appearance once more. This moment had been a long time coming - going all the way back to the moment she pointed out the dirt smudge on his nose when they were just eleven, and she wanted this moment to be perfect.

With a quick reapplication of a faint, sheer gloss to her lips, Hermione inhaled sharply, exhaled slowly, and made her way out of the bathroom and onto the escalator. She spotted her parents quickly, her mother admiring Ginny while her father was saying something to Ron while he stared at the floor. Her heart sped up a touch at the sight of her favorite ginger, though she managed to keep a straight face, smiling as she gave Molly and Arthur a wave.

But when Ron suddenly looked up at her, she felt the air escape her lungs momentarily. The look on his face was priceless, almost scared in a way, as if he wasn't really seeing her. At least, that's what she assumed, as she was feeling the exact same way. Was it possible for him to be taller than he was when she left? Because he looked taller. Maybe even a little bit older, too. When he finally managed to crack a smile, she felt her face stretch out with a grin from ear to ear, giving him a small wave as she stepped off the escalator.

She walked until there were about six good steps between the two of them, her hands moving to clutch the strap of her beaded bag as the two locked eyes.

"Did you mean it?" she asked quietly.

Ron didn't need any explanation as to what Hermione was referring to. "Every word, Hermione."

"You promise?"

"I swear."

She bit her lower lip, her feet still stationery as she stared at him. "We still have to talk - about _a lot_ of things."

Ron quickly nodded. "I know we do. And we can. We will."

"You'll really talk?" she inquired, a tad bit haughtily. "You won't just make me talk?"

Tentatively, Ron took a step closer to Hermione, and now there were only five steps between them. "I'll talk about whatever you want, for however long you want. I will talk until you tell me to stop."

That was all Hermione needed to hear. Letting go of her strap, she closed the gap between them and effortlessly threw her arms around his neck. Her legs locking around his waist, she heard the flowers Ron was holding drop to the ground as his arms wrapped tightly around her, their foreheads pressing against each other, the tips of their noses touching.

"I love you," Ron whispered. "I always have and I'm bloody sorry it took me this long to figure it out."

She tried to blink away her tears, but it was pointless. "Don't swear," she scolded. "And I love you too."

"Promise?"

Hermione nodded quickly. "I don't know how to do anything else when it comes to you, Ronald Weasley - even when you're positively infuriating."

"I reckon I'm pretty lucky like that," Ron replied with a wry grin.

"I reckon you are," Hermione replied, nuzzling her nose slightly against his.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he quietly warned her, tightening his arms around her waist even more as she adjusted her arms around his neck.

She sighed. "You don't have to tell me when you're going to kiss me, Ron. You just do -" There was no way for her to finished her sentence, because for the second time in her life, she found herself with her lips against Ron's in the sweetest of manners. When he pulled away, she quickly, but slowly, gave him another kiss on the lips as the two of them grinned like fools at each other. "See?" she finally said as Ron carefully put her back down on the ground. "It's much more fun if you just do it."

Ron chuckled as he felt her fingers lightly scratch at the nape of his neck. "I'll remember that for next time."

"You should."

"Oi! He's not the only one that missed you for the last three months for Merlin's sake!"

The two of them turned and looked at Harry, who was feigning an impressive look of contempt in the direction of his other best friend as Ginny hooked an arm with her boyfriend. Hugging herself into Ron's side, she gave Harry a brilliant smile and a wave. "I missed you too, Harry. And Ginny…" she looked over at Ron's parents, who were standing with her parents, the four of them with delighted looks on their faces. "And everyone!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "It's so great to be back."

Harry laughed, shaking his head at the two of them. "We're glad to have you back - and I'll demand a hug from you later."

She nodded, leaning her head into Ron's chest.

"You know Ron, you're supposed to give her those flowers - not hold onto them until they die," his sister teased.

In the excitement of seeing Hermione, he'd forgotten that he'd had them in his hand all this time. "Right," he said, hoisting the flowers upright as he handed, or really, thrusted them into Hermione's hands. "I picked these for you…you know…this morning."

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a faint blush. "They're beautiful."

Ron couldn't help that his chest puffed out ever so slightly at her praise, even with the look on Ginny's face that told him her idea was a brilliant one.

"Well, now that we're all here," Arthur announced to everyone. "And everyone is safe and well, we should probably let the Grangers get on home. I'm sure Jean and Richard are anxious to return, and tired from their travels."

Jean didn't miss the look on Hermione's face at Arthur's suggestion that they all begin to part ways. "Actually, Arthur, my husband and I were going to run a few errands, mostly to the market, check up on the practice, and a few other things before returning home. I'm certain Hermione would rather stay with all of you, if it isn't a bother."

"Hermione is never a bother!" Molly cried as she clapped her hands. "We'd love for her to come - and maybe even stay a few days."

"Wonderful!" Richard exclaimed. "Jean and I will get things settled, and Ron, we'd love for you to come back with Hermione and spend some time with us for a few days."

"Very much so," Jean agreed as she and her husband wrapped their arms around each other's waists. "Does that sound like an agreeable plan to everyone?"

Ron and Hermione both blurted a loud "YES," and were immediately embarrassed as their families laughed at their tandem response.

"Well, let's be going then," Arthur announced as he ushered the two families out of the muggle airport.

* * *

Everything was just as Hermione remembered it at the Burrow, and when she stepped inside, it was hard not to feel like she was home. It didn't take long for Ron to sneak Hermione upstairs to his room, which his sister of course spotted, and then went mental when neither parent proceeded to stop it. By the time they were upstairs, they could hear Ginny and her shouts of how 'unfair' it was that her brother got to have his privacy while she had a door magicked away, but neither of them really cared.

Ron noticed how exhausted Hermione looked before they disapparated from the airport to the Burrow after saying goodbye to her parents. He remembered Harry mentioning that she'd probably be jet-lagged, and was pretty sure that's why she was tired. With a flick and a swish of his wrist, he expanded his long twin bed into a slightly wider bed, and placed his wand on his dresser.

"Mum and Dad…they said we could stay in here…together…if you want of course," Ron slightly stammered as Hermione arched an eyebrow at the expanded bed.

"Well no wonder Ginny's downstairs pitching a fit," Hermione replied with a sly smirk.

"Yeah," Ron replied, as he scratched the back of his head. "She's been pretty put out about it since Charlie removed it right after you left."

Slipping out of her sandals, Hermione walked over to Ron's bed and sat down on the edge, running a hand across the top of his Chudley Cannons blanket.

"Did you er, I mean, did you want to talk…now?" he asked her, watching as her fingers lightly grazed the fringe on his blanket.

She shook her head and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. "We have plenty of time to talk."

"Ok," Ron hesitantly replied.

Hermione yawned again. "I wouldn't mind a nap."

"Well I can certainly let you be and make sure that no one -"

"I don't want you to go!" she quickly cried before he could finish his sentence.

His eyes perked up as he stared at her. "Alright. I…I can stay."

"With me?" she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "I felt empty for three months and now I'm here…with you…and it's like I can feel again. Breathe again. I'm sure it all sounds silly…"

Ron didn't think it sounded silly at all. He felt the exact same way, exhaling a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding knowing that she shared the same thought. He kicked off his shoes and crawled into his bed, moving to the side closest to the wall. Propping himself up with a few pillows, he motioned for Hermione to come close to her, which she did without hesitation.

As Hermione rested her head gently against Ron's chest, she sighed as he wrapped an arm around her. "I missed you terribly, you know," she confessed.

"I missed you too, Hermione," Ron replied softly. "And I really did mean everything I said in that letter."

Nodding against his chest, she yawned and snuggled up to him as close as she could, inhaling his familiar scent that always found a way to calm whatever nerves she may have had at that moment. "You really want a future with me?" she quietly asked.

"More than anything," Ron sincerely replied. "That is, of course, if that's what you want too."

Closing her eyes, she yawned for a final time and sighed with perfect contentment. "It's what I've always wanted," she confessed, before dozing off – for the first time, in a long time – a deep and uneventful sleep. It didn't take long for Ron, as comfortable as he'd ever been in his life, to quickly follow suit.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Hey everyone - I'm thinking about turning this into an episodic story - each chapter is a stand alone but it all goes together. Hopefully you like the latest addition!_**

* * *

"So this is what you've been sinking your galleons into."

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Ron put down the staining rag in his hand and gave his older brothers, Bill and Charlie, a nod as the stood in the doorway of a soon to be library/den. All he had left to do in this room was to finish staining the last bookcase a dark cherry color, and then with Bill's help, seal the bookcases he'd been meticulously making by hand to the walls. "What do you think?" he asked the two of them.

Charlie gave the room a good once over as he nodded. "I think it's bloody brilliant, little brother."

"We peeked around a little bit before finding you in here," Bill added. "Is this all you have left to finish?"

Ron nodded, wiping his brow again. "I reckon with you two helping, I can get it finished and put together today, I can show it to her tonight, after her and Ginny's graduation party is over." He found the house shortly after Hermione had left for her last year of Hogwarts. Located inside the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, it was a two story brick home, quite ordinary looking on the outside with it's simple rectangular shape and two sided rooftop, but Ron had been doing his best to make it extraordinary once he bought the home with barely a fraction of the money given to him by the ministry for his efforts in last year's war. The amount of money given to himself, Hermione, and Harry by the ministry was deemed 'obscene' by his girlfriend, but after the initial shock of it all, Ron didn't mind the money. He wasn't poor for the first time in his life, and with the money in his vault; his future children's children wouldn't be poor either.

"How many rooms does it have?" Bill asked as he began to admire the already stained bookcases lined up against the wall, waiting to be permanently drilled into the wall due to their floor to ceiling height.

Ron took a seat on top of the desk he bought from an antique dealer several months back and picked up his glass of water, taking a healthy drink before answering. "It had five, counting this room, but now there's four. There's a master bathroom, a full sized bathroom that connects two of the bedrooms, another full bathroom upstairs across from the other bedroom, and then a half bathroom downstairs."

"Blimey," Charlie said under his breath. "Dad wasn't kidding when he said you got one hell of a deal on the house."

"Well, that's because of all the work it required."

"But still," Charlie added. "I mean, it's really brilliant."

Ron's chest puffed up a little bit with pride. "Thanks Charlie. Hey - what are you doing home, anyway?"

Charlie laughed as he ran a hand through his Weasley red hair while Bill pulled out his wand and began to seal the bookcases to the wall. "Mum owled me two weeks ago and said that my baby sister and my sometime in the future sister-in-law would only graduate from Hogwarts once, and therefore if I did not do my duty and show up, she would personally come to Romania and make me regret it."

"She wasn't kidding, either," Bill added. "How does this look?"

Ron took a look at the first sealed bookcase and shrugged. "As long as it won't fall down and crush my girlfriend after she stacks it to the brim with books, it's fine." He finished his glass of water and looked over at Charlie. "And tell Mum to stop calling Hermione your future sister-in-law. I have to get her to say yes to moving in here first, you know." The tips of his ears burned red as he put the glass down on the table. "She might not say yes."

Bill lined up the second bookshelf against the first one, making sure everything matched, before casting his charm. "I'm sure your little bookworm will gladly say yes once you show off this sanctuary you built for her."

"And to anything else you might be thinking about asking," Charlie said with a hint and a glint in his eyes.

"I'm not even close to asking Hermione to marry me," Ron quickly prattled.

Bill looked over at Charlie, who was attempting to make himself comfortable on the desk chair across the room. "Get over her you lazy ass," he shouted at Charlie. Laughing, Charlie changed directions and the two of them moved the third bookcase in line so Bill could cast another spell. "Ron, there's nothing wrong with waiting if you aren't ready. Don't let Mum pressure you into it. I can only imagine what you thought when she and Dad gave you the Weasley ring last summer."

Ron looked down at his feet, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't know anyone knew about it."

"Mum told me, only because she didn't want Fleur's feelings to be hurt when you finally did ask," Bill replied. "And when I told Fleur about it, she said that nobody deserved the Weasley ring more. Fleur has always liked Hermione."

Charlie moved over to the other side of the room and began lining up the bookcases while Bill sealed the opposite side. "I figured you'd get that ring," he chimed in. "Not that I'm jealous or anything. I don't ever plan on settling down. I'm not one to believe in all that soul mate bollocks, but my mind could be swayed with you two _lovebirds_ as an example."

Ron rolled his eyes at his brother's exaggeration while Charlie responded with a laugh. He went back to finishing the stain on the final bookcase, rubbing the rag into the carved details of the molding he mounted around the top and bottom of the bookshelf frame. "Harry and Ginny don't make you think of soul mates?"

Bill and Charlie both laughed. "Ginny's been in love with Harry Potter since Mum began telling her those silly stories. Harry loves our little sister because she no longer cares that he's _the_ Harry Potter," Charlie replied.

"Don't get us wrong - we think Harry and Ginny are great together," Bill added. "But when Ginny went out with that one bloke during her fifth year…you know, the tall one -"

"Dean," Ron said.

Charlie went over to help Ron as he noticed him beginning to put the bookcase upright, only to be surprised when he realized his little brother needed no help at all. With barely a grunt, Ron slid the bookcase over in the final empty space on the wall, the walls now completely covered with shelves with the exception of the two French doors that led to an outside balcony facing the backyard. The cherry wood stain complimented the new hardwood floors that went throughout the entire house, with the exception of the bedrooms, and Ron was starting to feel nerves in his stomach. There was nothing much else to do, other than to get Hermione to say yes, and then to let her decorate the place, as it was mostly empty with freshly primed walls ready to be painted with whatever color she chooses.

"Right, Dean. Nice chap from what I remember, but when Ginny and Dean were dating, it's not like anyone was shouting 'Stop! You're meant to be with Harry!' you know? But you and Hermione…I mean, when Ginny told me you were dating Lavender, my first thought was that I should wallop you upside the head with a beater bat."

Ron sighed as he began to clean up the drop clothes from the staining. "You aren't the only one who thought that…about me and Lavender, you know. And I bloody felt bad about all of that, you know, once I realized that Hermione was right pissed at me because she liked me…and I only asked Lavender out because she liked me and I could tell she liked me…and I honestly never thought Hermione would say yes if I told her how I felt."

"You two spent so much effort trying to not act like you two weren't interested in each other…" Charlie said, trailing off as he grabbed a broom and began to sweep up the floor. "I can only imagine how great things are with the two of you now that you can put your _efforts_ into other things."

His cheeks blushing, Ron used his wand and with a flick of his wrists, vanished the rest of the mess to the shed in the backyard. "Not that it's any of your business, but we haven't done anything in the universe of what you're insinuating - outside of snogging, anyway."

"Really?" Charlie asked, genuinely surprised.

"Not even last summer, when she came back? Or when you saw her on breaks?" Bill asked.

Ron shrugged as he scratched at his arm. "We…we had a lot of stuff to sort out last summer, once she came back, and she wasn't really back all that long before she went to Hogwarts, and when we did have breaks…we just spent time together. Besides - we're never really alone anyway. Not even at her parents house."

"Are her parents ok with you two sharing a room like Mum and Dad?"

"They don't mind," Ron replied. "Her parents and I - we talk a lot, even when she was at school. Especially her dad…I really like her dad." This was the truth, as he had managed to grow incredibly close to the Grangers while Hermione was away. Richard and Jean were actually the first people to learn about the house he bought, and her dad was the first person he'd brought to the house once the sale was finalized.

_His hands stayed buried in the pockets of his coat as he trailed slightly behind Richard, who was silent as he gave every room in the house a once over, including the outside property. He knew his parents would be delighted about him purchasing his first house regardless of what was on the inside, but Ron felt like he needed Richard's approval. He didn't want to ask Hermione to move into the house with him without her father's approval of where his only daughter would be living. _

"_It definitely needs some work," Richard finally said as the two stood in the appliance-less kitchen._

"_I know, but I want to fix it up - and I can afford to do so," Ron said, his hands still deep in his pockets. _

_Richard nodded as he looked around the bare kitchen they stood in together. "It's a big house for what I'm assuming will be two people." _

_Nervously, Ron managed a nod, only slightly relaxing when Richard gave him a smile. "If she wants to, anyway. She could…you know, say no." _

_Richard laughed. "You really think she could say no?" _

"_I think," Ron began to say. "That when Hermione is given an option, it could go either way." _

"_She gets that from her mother," Richard replied with a snort. "But I reckon she isn't going to have much to say no to once you fix some things, eh? From what I hear, she likes the area too." _

_Nodding again, Ron moved a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "It's has a mixed community…muggles and wizards both live here, which is important to her, and it has a port key up the way that leads directly to the Ministry, where she hopes to work after Hogwarts…and it's close to Mum and Dad…who aren't all that keen on us kids being too far away still. Charlie's the only one who gets away with the rule, since he's been gone a bit now." _

"_Well…I imagine if my wife and I were your parents, we'd feel the same," Richard understandably replied. _

"_We can connect the fireplace in the dining room to the one in your house though," Ron stated. "It's an alright sort of a trip for you and your wife by car, but if we floo to you, we can bring you back through." _

"_If it's all the same, unless it's a dire emergency, I think my wife and I will stick to automobiles." _

"Has Mr. Granger seen the house now that it's finished?" Bill asked.

Ron nodded. "I brought him by yesterday to take a look. Jean too. They both seemed to be really pleased, but most importantly, they think Hermione will too."

"Well, I think you're crazy, building the biggest bookworm ever a room like this," Charlie said with a grin.

"How so?" Ron asked, a bit offended.

"Because one look in this room and you'll never see her again," Bill chimed in with a laugh.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Ron?" Hermione asked as she walked out into the yard of the burrow. George, Percy, Harry, and Arthur were out working on raising the tent while Molly, Ginny, Angelina, Fleur, Audrey, and Jean carried plates and silverware to the long table sitting underneath the wall-less tent. "I thought he was just going to run an errand?"

Molly gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "Ron's with Bill and Charlie - I'm sure they'll be back in plenty of time for the party."

Hermione attempted not to pout, but was unsuccessful by the amused look on her father's face, watching the other men raise the tent with their wands. "There, there, button," he said. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Not amused by her father's placating ways, she rolled her eyes and looked over at Harry. He recognized the look, took the hint, and excused himself so that he could follow Hermione as they took a walk down the gravel lane. "I'll be back," he promised, kissing Ginny's cheek before jogging a couple of steps to catch up with his best friend. The two of them walked in silence, and he noticed her arms were crossed tightly against her chest, her eyes narrowed slightly as the beginning of summer breeze blew through her ponytail. "What's wrong?" he asked once they were a good distance away from the house.

She shrugged. "Have you noticed Ron acting peculiar?"

"Not more than usual."

Hermione frowned. "I'm being serious, Harry!"

"Like I needed that sort of clarification," Harry said with a laugh. "I don't think he's being 'peculiar' - why do you ask?"

"Because I've been back from Hogwarts for nearly two days now and he hasn't bothered to spend more than a hour with me," Hermione nearly spat, stopping in her tracks as they reached a large oak tree a few yards off the path. Her arms still hugged to her chest, she changed direction and walked towards the tree, sitting down at the base of the trunk. Harry followed suit, and took a seat next to her. He watched as she brought her knees up to her chest and looked down. "Do you think he's changed his mind?" she timidly asked.

"About you? Not bloody likely," Harry said with a laugh. "All he ever talks about is you. He gets the mickey taken out of him at work daily because he can hardly go five minutes without using your name in a sentence."

Hermione smiled a little bit at that statement, but it disappeared as soon as it came. "He's been acting strange ever since Ginny and I came back."

"Look," Harry said, clapping a hand over her knee. "You worry too much. And I know you don't know how to stop worrying, but you're worrying about nothing. He's just been working on a project lately and -"

"A project?" she asked. "Ron's not mentioned any sort of project to me. What sort of project is it?"

"It's not for me to tell," Harry replied. "I wasn't even supposed to mention it, so if you could do me a favor and forget you heard me say it, that'd be great. And why are you so worried anyway? Is there something else going on?"

Hermione shrugged, and leaned back against the tree. "I asked him last night what he thought about us renting a flat, and he seemed…I don't know. Indifferent I guess…and that's not how I thought he'd react. He'd mentioned a few times in his letters that he was ready to move out of the Burrow, and if you think about it, you know, us renting an apartment each is just a waste of money because we're always going to be together and you can't live in two places at once so I said, 'Maybe should just rent a flat together,' and -"

"You thought he would have jumped at the idea."

"Well of course I did!" she shrilly exclaimed.

Harry looked over at his best friend and sighed. He knew she was upset, but he wasn't about to spoil everything Ron had been working on from the moment she left for her final year of school. "Look," he said, giving her knee a squeeze before pulling his hand back. "I promise you - that when Ron's ready to tell you what he's been working on - which you aren't allowed to mention that you know that he's working on anything - you'll feel silly about worrying over nothing."

Hermione sighed and leaned her head over, resting it on his shoulder. "Please. You know I never feel silly," she said, doing her best to keep a serious face, but it was wasted effort before the two of them dissolved into laughter. A comfortable bout of silence passed between the two of them, and Hermione hugged his arm with hers. "I missed you too, this year," she said. "It was weird, being at Hogwarts without you both."

Harry nodded. "It was equally weird being without you." He shifted slightly, digging his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, black velvet-squared box and handed it to Hermione. She looked up at him, wide eyed, and he nodded for her to open it. Inside was a thin, platinum band with a beautiful, round diamond in a six pronged setting. "It's my mother's ring - one of them anyway," he explained. "I'm thinking about asking Ginny to marry me tonight…after dinner."

She was stunned, looking at ring in her hand, then back at Harry. "You're joking."

"Dead serious."

"But…but Harry," she protested. "We're all still so young…and I mean…are you two really ready for this?"

"I love her," Harry said. "I love her more than anything, and all I want is for her to be my wife. I just…do you think she'll say no? We've talked about marriage…and getting married, and I know _you_ think it's too early, but what do you think she'll say?"

Hermione knew exactly what Ginny would say. They were actually talking about marriage of all things on the train ride home. _"Ginny?" she asked once the London skyline was almost in sight._

"_Hmm," her best friend replied as she flipped a page in her wizarding magazine. _

"_Ginny…have you and Harry talked about what you'll both be doing now that you're done with school?" _

_Ginny closed her magazine and sat up on the bench across from Hermione. "I'll probably appease my mother and stay home this summer, but we've talked about me moving into Grimmauld Place. By talked I mean it's happening, but with this past year, we both thought it would be best if I stuck around this summer, and moved once tryouts started. What about you?" _

"_Me?" Hermione asked with a laugh. "What do you mean, what about me?" _

"_You and Ron, silly," Ginny replied. "What are you two doing?" _

"_I honestly don't know," Hermione replied. "We've not really talked about it, with him just finishing his Auror training and helping George on the side. I'm sure we'll probably discuss it at some point. I'm hoping we'll maybe move into a flat together, but like I said, we have to talk about it." _

_Ginny gave her a peculiar look. "You really haven't talked about any of that?" _

_Hermione nonchalantly shrugged. "We've had a lot going on, and we both agreed to focus on what we needed to get done, because now that school and training is over, we have all the time in the world to figure the rest of it out. I'm honestly surprised you and Harry have it all planned out." _

_Putting her magazine into her bag, Ginny walked across the train cabin and sat next to Hermione. "If I tell you something, you swear you won't say a word to anyone - especially Ron?" _

_Hermione nodded. "Of course." _

"_You promise?" she asked again. "Because knowing Ron, he'd bloody freak out and do something completely stupid." _

"_Language," Hermione minded her friend with a laugh. "And yes, I swear. I've never told Ron anything you say when you've asked me not to." _

_Ginny exhaled a sigh of relief. "Good, because Harry and I have been talking a lot…and I mean a lot, about getting married." _

_Hermione's eyes went wide; her jaw dropping slightly as the train whistle blew, alerting the students that they were pulling into the station. It took a few moments to collect her thoughts, but as soon as she did, the train stopped at the platform and the sounds of the steam engine decompressing hissed through the air. _

"_Say something!" Ginny exclaimed._

"_Well…" she finally managed to speak. "I mean, if I were wanting to start telling your secrets to Ron - which I would never, ever do, I can promise you that out of all of them, that one would never be repeated. Ever." _

_Ginny's lightly freckled cheeks blushed as the two stood up and grabbed their things. Hermione slid the strap of her beaded bag across her body and grabbed her jacket, while Ginny slung her purse over her shoulder, grabbed her magazine, and the two of them made their way through the crowd of students to exit the train. Jumping off the last step, Hermione felt Ginny's hand on her shoulder as waves of students enthusiastically passed them. _

"_Yes?" she asked her friend, somewhat surprised that she wasn't running in search of Harry._

_Biting her lips together, Ginny tucked her red locks back behind her ear. "You're my best friend, so I need to know what you honestly think, you know, about what I just said." _

_Hermione took a step closer to her friend. "About marriage?" she said, her voice in a whisper towards the end. _

_Ginny nodded. "When I told you, you almost looked like you didn't approve." _

"_No!" Hermione exclaimed. "I was just surprised…I mean, we're not that old, you know." _

"_I know," Ginny replied. "But wizards tend to marry young, and Harry and I love each other and I just…if you think it's a bad idea, just tell me. You're both of our best friends. Your opinion matters." _

"_Ginny…" Hermione said, unsure of even how to have this conversation in the crowd of reuniting students and parents. "It's not that I think it's a bad idea. You said so yourself - wizards marry young. Muggles don't. Not usually anyway. My parents didn't - they're as old as yours and they only had me. It's just a different way of thinking. The only people that have to be happy about it are the two of you." _

"_But you don't think it's a bad idea," Ginny implored._

"_I'm not you. I can't make that decision." _

"_If you were me then," Ginny countered. "If you were me, then what would you do?" _

_She swallowed a groan. All she wanted to do was to hug Ron and see her parents and Ginny was delaying her with a conversation that could easily be had at the Burrow. "If I were you I wouldn't get married young," Hermione honestly replied. "But again, I'm not you." _

_Ginny thought about this for a moment. "So…what you're saying is that you wouldn't get married young if you were me, but you aren't me so therefore you're ok with it." _

"_Ginny!" Hermione screeched. "Honestly! Can we please have this conversation later!" _

_Ginny huffed, blowing some stray locks away from her face. "Oh alright." _

"Well?" Harry asked. "Do you think she'll say yes?"

Hermione closed the box and handed it back to Harry and gave him a smile. "I'd definitely say the odds are in your favor."

Harry smirked as he popped the box back into his pocket. "Excellent."

* * *

"What are those two doing?" Ron asked. He'd just apparated back to the Burrow with Bill and Charlie, everything in his house now finished, and spotted Harry and Hermione sitting underneath the big oak tree towards the end of the lane.

Ginny looked up and over where her brother was pointing and shrugged. "Hermione was in a state earlier, and so she and Harry went on a walk, and that's apparently where they landed."

"In a state? What's wrong?"

"You, dummy," Ginny bluntly replied. "You've hardly paid any attention to her since we got home from school, and I don't think she appreciates it."

Groaning, he dropped his shoulders and rolled his head around, his eyes rolling as well. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "I wasn't trying to ignore her - I just had to finish this one thing and I needed Bill and Charlie's help." Scratching the back of his head, he figured it was best to leave the two of them alone, though he didn't want to. "I need a shower."

Ginny eyed her brother suspiciously. "You aren't still bothered by the two of them, are you?"

"No," he replied, a bit quickly.

"She loves you, for reasons I can hardly understand some days," Ginny added. "They're just friends - and be glad for that - because you know she's never nearly as mad at you once she talks to Harry."

Ron nodded. His sister definitely had a point there. "I still need a shower."

"Then go," Ginny said. "I'm sure they'll be back by the time you're finished up."

He nodded once more and headed inside the house, managing to walk through fairly unnoticed as he made his way upstairs. Ron hopped into the shower, pulling the curtain around the porcelain clawed tub. He always thought the tub was getting smaller, but his mother always pointed out that it was him that continued to get taller. He vigorously scrubbed shampoo into his hair, mentally kicking himself for upsetting Hermione. That was hardly his intent - he just found himself at George's shop a bit more than he'd planned this past week during his spare time. With the anniversary of Fred's death happening tomorrow, George had been a little down. He, Angelina, and his best friend, Verity, had been doing their best to keep his spirits up this week - Ron even let George use him as a guinea pig for a few of his latest inventions. The look of pure glee on George's face when his latest created made Ron's nose and ears 'disappear' for a period of time was worth the moments of sheer horror that his nose and ears actually appeared to be missing - until George gave him the antidote.

Rinsing the remaining soapsuds from his hair and body, Ron shut off the shower and summoned a towel from the cabinet over to him, securely wrapping it around his hips. Grabbing a smaller towel on his way out of the bathroom, he began to rub his hair dry as he walked across the hall, where he found Hermione sitting on his bed, flipping through one of his quidditch magazines. "Pretending to be interested?" he teased.

She looked up at Ron and let out a yelp. "I'm…I'm sorry," she stammered, her cheeks flushing bright red. "I didn't realize, I mean, I thought you'd be dressed, but of course you wouldn't be because you're clothes are obviously here in your room and -" Hermione couldn't finish her rambling, because before she realized it, her lips were being occupied by his.

As he pulled away, she looked up at him and his smug grin. "Hermione," he said to her in a very calm voice. "I hardly mind if you see me in a towel."

She bit her lip. "Al-alright." The two of them hadn't done much outside of some heavy snogging, and while Hermione was well aware that she'd seen Ron in a swimsuit before, she was pretty sure seeing him in nothing but towel was different. She welcomed the second kiss he gave her before watching him retreat over to his dresser, grabbing a pair of boxers from the top drawer and left the room, returning a few moments later without a towel, but in boxers. Hermione couldn't help but watch him as he moved about as he searched and found his favorite pair of khaki cargo shorts, slipping into them before he grabbed a green and yellow striped t-shirt from his dresser and pulled it over his head. "Where have you been all day?" she nonchalantly inquired as she mindlessly leafed through the magazine.

Ron took a seat next to her on his bed and pulled the magazine out of her hands, tossing it onto the floor. "I'm sorry I upset you," he said, looking right at her. "Because I upset you, right? That's why I saw you over by the tree with Harry."

She gave him a small nod, keeping her eyes down. "I just…we've been a part for what felt like forever and now I'm back and you were gone before I even woke up this morning - and you know I'm _always_ the one that wakes up early. And I mentioned renting a flat together last night and you didn't even react to it and I just...I thought you would have liked the idea."

He had every intention of waiting until after dinner to show her what had been occupying his spare time while she was away, but had a change of heart as he could see her unnecessary disappointment. "Can I show you something?" he asked, nudging her chin up slightly so that he could look at her.

Hermione nodded. "What is it?"

"Just…something I've been working on." Ron vaguely replied. He stood up from the bed and held his hands out to her.

She gave him her hands and with that, a reluctant look.

"Just trust me," Ron said, squeezing her hands. "Please?"

"Alright," she promised. "I trust you."

With that affirmation, Ron pulled her close, and in a snap, the two of the apparated from the Burrow to a sidewalk in a quaint and quirky neighborhood. Collecting her bearings, Hermione looked around at the neighborhood, at the two story, brick house in front of them, then over at Ron. "What's this? Where are we?"

"Ottery St. Catchpole," he said, keeping a hold of one of her hands. "When you left for school, I was really depressed for the first week. I thought I'd made the wrong choice, and that I should have gone to school with you instead of staying behind. Then one day, when I was running some errands for Mum, I came across this house, and it was definitely in an awful state. But I took a look at it anyway, then I brought my dad to see it, then your dad, and decided that it would be a good project to keep me busy while you were away."

He pulled her along, and Hermione followed, walking up the two stone steps to the other sidewalk that led directly to the front porch. With a flick of his wand, he unlocked the door, but bent down and moved a small stone elf, picking up the muggle house key and handing it to Hermione. "I saw this at one of the Saturday fairs," he said, referring to the statue. "I reckoned he reminded me of Dobby a bit, and then I remembered that your parents have that big stone frog that they hide a key underneath at their house…so I decided it would be a perfect thing to use here."

"A perfect thing to use?"

"You know, to hide a key."

"A key to this house."

"We aren't standing in front of another house."

Hermione quickly shook her head and held her hands up. "Hold on a second," she said, trying to wrap her mind around everything that was happening. "This is your house?"

"Well I reckon I didn't pour a bunch of blood, sweat, and tears into it so that it could be someone else's house," Ron teased. "And it's not my house. It's our house…you know…if you want to live in it…with me." Opening the front door, he pushed it aside and waited for a still shocked Hermione to walk inside. It took her a few seconds, but eventually she moved, looking around at the completely renovated, albeit empty house. The floors were hardwood and refinished, matching the banister and wooden staircase that led to the upstairs. He shut the door behind him and watched as Hermione began peeking her head into every room.

He kept his hands buried in his pockets as he followed her into the kitchen, outfitted with brand new muggle appliances that Richard helped him pick out one day and when they were installed, he gave Ron a very thorough tutorial on all of them, including what to look out for and when to know to replace them.

"Ron…" she said, running a hand over the dark granite mounted to the kitchen island. "It's beautiful."

"You've only seen like, three rooms," Ron argued with a laugh. "There's a whole upstairs to investigate - and a garage with a working remote. Your dad helped with that, because we figured you'd want a car eventually."

She looked at him, completely bewildered. "And you did all of this?"

"I hired out what I couldn't do…like the rewiring, and the guys who came in and renovated the floors," he confessed. "But I definitely paid for it, and fixed the rest. I only completely renovated one room by hand, and it was actually the room that I was finishing this morning - with Bill and Charlie's help. It's actually your graduation present - the room, that is. I couldn't really think of what to get you but then I had this brilliant idea…" he stopped talking and nodded with his head for Hermione to follow. "It's better explained when you see it," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

He lead her through from the kitchen through the dining room, then through another living/family room area, showing her how the downstairs was a big loop as they found themselves back at the stairs. Walking up them, Hermione dragged her free hand lightly against the smooth, polished banister, and marveled at the woodwork on the lower half of the walls, everything bright white - primed and ready to be painted. The hardwood floors continued until the reached the bedrooms, which were large and carpeted.

"Your dad said it's called berber carpeting," Ron said. "And that it's easy to keep clean and has the best lifespan."

Hermione nodded as they looked into one, two, three bedrooms before they got to the obscenely large master bedroom. Hermione was shocked at how deep the closet was, and amazed at the beautiful tile work that had been done in the bathroom, with the large glass cased shower and adjacent jacuzzi tub. "I can't," she said. "I don't even know…what to say."

"I've rendered Hermione Granger speechless. Merlin's beard! It's a miracle!" Ron mocked.

She mockingly scowled at him, but it barely lasted a second. "Ron…all of it is just stunning. Honestly. How did you learn how to…you know…any of this?"

Ron shrugged, his hands back in his pockets. "Surprisingly enough," he confessed. "I took a page out of your book and, you know, started to read books. And then I asked your dad loads and loads of questions, and he was a huge help, and your mum taught me how to use this white goopy stuff called grut I think -"

"Grout."

"Grout - that's it," Ron said with a snap of his fingers. "So she showed me how to put it between the tiles because I didn't understand some of the muggle terms and explanations, and once I started reading how to do things, I reckon actually doing the stuff I was reading about wasn't all that hard."

Hermione giggled, clapping a hand over her heart. "I can't believe you actually read books, and enjoyed it, and learned something too!"

"Well it was actually useful stuff!" Ron defensively exclaimed, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I didn't need any bloody Divination knowledge to put this house together, you know. Or Ancient Runes, and I definitely didn't use any bloody Potions."

Sauntering over to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pecked his lips with hers. "I'm just teasing," she whispered.

"Are you ready to see the best room?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "Lead the way."

He grabbed her hand once more and pulled her out of the bathroom, and opened another door in their bedroom, which led directly into the library he'd spent so many painstaking hours creating. There was a door that also connected back to the hallway, and with the exception of the two inside doors, the French doors leading to the balcony, the walls were covered from the floor to the ceiling with bookcases. He knew he'd done a good then when he heard her gasp, and then saw her eyes water. "Happy tears?" he mumbled into her ear.

She couldn't help but admire the beautiful molding, and how the bookcases looked as if they just came with the room. Everything was seamless and perfect, with a rolling ladder system mounted around the perimeter of the room so she could reach the highest shelves without magic. "Ron!" she finally gasped, noticing the elegant desk and matching chair sitting near the back of the room. "You did all of this?"

"I built the bookcases, and had Charlie and Bill help me seal them to the walls with magic," Ron quietly replied. "I thought you'd like a proper office once you get a job at the Ministry."

Hermione looked over at Ron. "But what if the Ministry doesn't hire me?"

"How could they _not _hire a bloody war heroine _and _the Brightest Witch of our Age?" Ron asked.

"Don't swear," she minded, albeit half-heartedly. She sat down on the new carpet in the middle of her own personal library, and continued to look around the room in awe, already mentally making notes as to how she could organize and arrange her books.

Ron sat down in front of her, crisscrossing his long legs just as she did and looked at her. "So what do you think? About the house."

Hermione beamed brightly at her boyfriend. "I think it's wonderful, Ron. You've done a brilliant job."

"Am I sensing a but?"

"Not a but," Hermione said. "It's just…it's a big house for just the two of us. Granted, I'm excited that you've planned all of this because we really hadn't talked a lot about what we were going to live after school and after last night I thought you didn't want together…and I love this room…but this house is gigantic!"

He inched closer to her, their folded knees touching. "You're right. It's big. Probably bigger than will ever be necessary. But Hermione, when I saw the house, I just knew in my gut that this was going to be our house. Ottery St. Catchpole has both muggles and wizards - and you always said that if and when you had kids you wanted them to be surrounded by both - and it's close but not too close to Mum and Dad - your parents will never have any trouble being in this town, or getting to it, and look," he paused, taking in a deep breath as he looked her right in the eye. "I know Harry's going to propose to Ginny tonight. He told me about it last night."

"He told you!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe he told you. I can't believe you didn't kill him!"

"He did, and I didn't kill him, surprisingly, but I think they're completely mental to get married this young," Ron said, somewhat defeated. "But it's their choice, I reckon, and if that's what they want to do then ok…but it's not how I want to do things. I know you're going to want to get your career settled, and I'm going to want to do my very best to become a good, dependable auror now that training is done."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"And I know money isn't ever going to be an issue, because we have more of it than we know what to do with thanks to the Ministry," Ron added, "But I want to be a provider, you know? I want to know that my job can take care of us, and that we can take care of each other." He reached over and grabbed her hand. "Remember when you came back from Australia, and you asked me if I really wanted a future with you?"

"Of course," Hermione replied, squeezing his hand.

"And you said that it's all you ever wanted."

"Yes," Hermione breathlessly answered. "And I meant it. Every word of it."

"Well, I want to marry you, and I have every intention of asking you in a few years, when we're both exactly where we want to be with our careers, because I know how important that is to you," Ron definitively. "But just because I'm not going to ask you to marry me right away doesn't mean we can't live in this house and start our life together. Of course, I fixed it, and left everything white so it's up to you to pick out paint and decorate it because you know I'm rubbish at that sort of stuff, and if you left it up to me the entire place would be orange and I'd hang Chudley Cannons posters everywhere."

Giggling, Hermione moved up onto her knees and crawled over so that she was in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. Nuzzling her nose against his, she gave him a sweet kiss as she ran a hand through his shaggy red hair. "You are absolutely amazing when you choose to be, Ronald Weasley," she confessed.

"Am I?" he asked, hugging his arms around her waist.

"You are," Hermione said. "And I love this house, and I love you for putting so much thought into it, and I'm sorry I got upset about you not being around today, because I would love nothing more than to live in this gigantic house with you forever. I love you."

Grinning, Ron hugged her tight, eliciting a squeal from Hermione as he laughed. "I'm so glad you love it, and I love you too."

"I love all of it," she promised. "And I don't want to leave it…but it doesn't have furniture, and there is a graduation dinner waiting for us at your parents house."

"And if we don't get back soon people will definitely notice we're gone," Ron added.

Reluctantly, Hermione crawled out of his lap and smoothed out her blouse as Ron followed suit, standing upright in the middle of Hermione's library. "This room really did turn out quite well," Ron remarked, his chest puffing out with just a little bit of pride.

Hermione agreed. "It's amazing. I can't wait to put all of my books on the shelves."

"When do you want to start?" Ron asked.

"Tomorrow," Hermione said with a nod. "And then we can spend this weekend picking out paint and furniture and…"

Usually when Hermione went into list making and task designating mode, Ron would find the nearest exit and move before she assigned him to do something. But there was something about listening to her talk about all the things _they_ could do to _their_ house that made his heart swell - and he knew then it didn't matter what Hermione asked him to do - because he knew he would do it without complaint and enjoy _every_ minute of it.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Just another little moment that came to me while I was shopping for appliances of all things. I've been in house buying chaos this past month...and so it was nice to think of something other than paint and cabinets and movers and spending an obscene amount of money along the way!**_

* * *

"I can't believe you aren't excited for me!"

"I never said that - and don't you dare put words into my mouth!"

"With as much as you talk there's hardly any _room_ for me to put _words_ anywhere - but you don't even need to speak because I can see it all over your bloody face! Merlin forbid you be excited for me!"

"You come home and blurt out that you're going to be sent on a _dangerous_ assignment dealing with capturing the last of Voldemort's followers as if you won a contest to personally touch every member of the Chudley Cannons quidditch team! How am I supposed to be excited about this!"

Ron could feel the anger in his cheeks as he and Hermione stared defiantly at each other. He couldn't remember the last time they rowed this hard. Hell - he couldn't remember the last time the two of them had an honest row about anything since the two moved in together nearly seven months ago. Hermione nagged him about never managing to get all of his clothes in the hamper most nights, but that was always with an overzealous eye roll as she picked up after him. Ron managed to hit the hamper most days...at least in his mind, anyway.

And she was right - he did come home excited. They'd been monitoring a hideout that had been revealed to be a former safe house of Voldemort's, and it was Ron's strategic mind that drew up the plans after evaluating the house, the grounds, and the risk potential. Kingsley was so impressed by the reports that Ron had written up and plans of attack that he drafted that he chose Ron to lead the mission. He was chosen! Not Harry, not some senior level auror, but him! His plans were called _brilliant_! His plans were hand chosen by the _Minister of Magic_ himself! So of course he came home excited - he'd been waiting for the day where he was recognized for something at work other than being Harry Potter's best friend and today was that day.

The two ate in silence that night. Ron assumed Hermione was just overly worried, but he couldn't understand why. It wasn't like they were a bunch of kids wandering aimlessly with vague instructions relayed by Harry from Professor Dumbledore. He was an auror. He managed to finish his training program near the top of his class, he managed to secure a mid-level position with the auror department in charge of creating strategies and executing plans - a rare placement for a rookie as told to him those inside the department. Ron didn't think it was asking a lot for his girlfriend to be proud of him instead of responding to his news with a look that he interpreted as sheer horror.

They managed to avoid each other after dinner, Ron watching a football game on the telly without any real vested interested while Hermione buried her nose in a book, curled up under the covers in the bed the two of them shared. By the time Ron came to bed, it was a quarter after ten. He found Hermione asleep, the book she was reading open against her chest, with the faintest trail of tear tracks against her cheeks. He carefully peeled the book away from her, making sure to mark her place before placing the book on her nightstand.

She stirred slightly, despite Ron's attempt to keep her asleep, and her eyes fluttered open for a brief moment before closing again. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Am I allowed?" Ron knew it was probably the wrong response, but the biting remark was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Of course you are," she said, snapping right back at him with her eyes still closed. Hermione rolled onto her side, her back facing his side of the bed, and did her best to keep from crying…again. She felt him crawl into bed, and before she knew it, his arm latched around her midsection and reeled her towards him, hugging her resistant body to his as if there was no other option. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice cracking.

Ron sighed. "I'm not leaving tomorrow with us in the middle of a row," he said, hugging her as close to him as he could without hurting her.

Hermione sniffled. "I'm just scared," she finally admitted. "It's not that I'm not…I am proud of you. _Incredibly_ proud of you…I'm just scared. I don't want anything to happen to you."

He sighed again, burying his face into her neck, leaving a warm kiss on top of her bare shoulder thanks to the tank top she always slept in. "Hermione…nothing is going to happen."

She shook her head. "That's what you think. Everything's been quiet. Too quiet. And now you guys are going to go after what's left of Voldemort's pathetic group of followers and for you to think that everything will be just fine means that you didn't learn _anything_ during the war. _Nothing_ is fine when those people are involved - and to call them people is insulting to the human race because they aren't people - they're monsters!"

Ron pulled her hair out of the knotted ponytail she had her curls contained with, and shook them loose with a hand, weaving his fingers through the curls so that he could lightly massage her scalp in an attempt to help calm her down. "I know they're monsters," he said softly. "And that's why we have to catch them. We can end this chapter - finally - and the whole lot of us can go back to being the boring sort of aurors that deal with petty thievery and complaints instead of staging lookouts and raids." He felt her relax slightly against him, and mentally noted that this was progress. "Everything is going to be fine."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't say that. You're just asking for disaster by saying that."

"Well I'm certainly not going into this mission thinking it'll be a disaster, considering I'm the one who's planned out our moves," he half joked, the fingers of his free hand continuing to work their magic as Hermione relaxed a little bit more. "And it's ok if you don't think it'll be fine," he promised her. "I can believe it enough for the both of us, because when it turns out that I'm right, you know I'm going to remind you about it every chance I get."

She couldn't help but smile for a brief moment at his comments, the tug at the corner of her lips dissolving as quickly as it came. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to you," she hoarsely whispered.

"I promise I will return to you in one piece."

It took a moment, but Hermione forced herself to roll over so that she was facing Ron. She closed her eyes as he brushed his hand over her forehead and on top of her hair. "I am proud of you…please don't think that I'm not."

"I know," Ron promised.

"I just don't want you to go."

"You'll hardly miss me," Ron replied. "I should be back late tomorrow evening."

"I always miss you," Hermione whispered.

Ron kissed her shoulder again. "Do you miss me right now?"

She nodded quickly.

"But I'm right here."

"But you won't be tomorrow…and you don't know…I won't know when you're coming back."

He sighed. "Hermione, I'm going to be back tomorrow night and -"

"You don't know that you'll be back tomorrow night!" she exclaimed through her tears. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he was too strong. "Damn it, Ronald, let me go!"

Ron did as she requested, and watched her all but leap out of the bed, whipping around so that she was facing him, red eyed and visibly scared. "_Nothing_ that has _ever_ involved those monsters has gone according to plan. _Nothing_!" she hissed for emphasis. "And so while I am incredibly proud of you and your plan and that Kingsley believes in it, don't expect me to be happy about the fact that something could happen to you! You aren't catching wannabe death eaters that will crumble upon being seen - these aren't amateurs!"

"So what, I'm an amateur! I'm not some auror in training, you know! I wear the same damn badge as all the other aurors!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"Are you sure? Because I believe that's exactly what you were saying!" Ron shouted in a booming voice.

Hermione plucked the hair tie from her pillow and roughly gathered up her hair, tying it up into a messy bun as she glared at Ron before slapping her hands onto her hips. "What I'm _saying_," she spat. "Is that I want you around so that we can someday get married and have little redheaded babies and _none_ of that can happen if you go and get yourself killed!"

Ron groaned and grabbed his pillow, clamping it over his face as he stifled a loud, frustrating groan. He waited a few moments before removing the pillow, and found Hermione glaring at him, her hands still on her hips, not budging an inch. "You clearly have _no_ faith in me if you think I'm going to get killed."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley - are you or are you _not_ the same person who at the age of eleven sacrificed himself in a barbaric, life sized game of wizarding chess?" she snapped.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Merlin's beard, woman, what in the bloody hell does that have to do with -"

"Answer the question!"

"Hermione you're being completely mental -"

"You are!" she answered for him. "I know you are because that's one of the best parts about you and that's what I _love_ about you and if you're willing to sacrifice yourself in a game of chess on a strategy _you_ planned then I know you'll do the same thing tomorrow - even if it means that you're the one that gets hurt!" She wasn't yelling so much now as she was crying through her words, tears streaming down her cheeks once more.

Ron climbed out of bed, raking a hand raggedly through his hair as he slowly made his way around the bed and over to Hermione. Standing toe to toe, he looked down at her, watching as she looked away, chewing on her bottom lip. "Look at me."

She bit her lip harder.

"Hey," he said, gently but firm. "Look at me."

It took a few moments, but she relented, and looked up at him.

He bent his head down so that his forehead was touching hers. "I'm not eleven anymore," he whispered.

"I know you aren't, but I know you," she whispered back. "I know what you'll do."

"When you came back from Australia, and we stayed up all night talking, I promised you I wasn't going to leave you ever again, and I meant it, Hermione," Ron said, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "We're going to grow old together. So old that we aren't going to be able to stand the sight of each other because we're going to be wrinkled and disgusting looking." His joke didn't get the response she was looking for, so he gave her arms a squeeze. "Hermione, I need you to trust me," he finally said. "Your opinion is the only opinion I ever care about - and I can't go into this tomorrow knowing that you think I'm going to fail."

Hermione looked up at him, looking completely defeated. "I have all the faith in the world when it comes to you," she said. She placed a hand on her chest, then clenched a hold of his shirt for a moment, then let go. "I just don't trust anyone else."

The next morning was as quiet as dinner was the night before. They managed to fall asleep together, but Ron never hit a REM cycle. The moment he was almost asleep, Hermione woke up with a nightmare. It didn't take long to calm her down, but Hermione turned him into a human body pillow after that - much like she always did after a nightmare - and Ron never had the heart to move her once she fell back asleep. Curing his exhaustion with a pepper-up potion, he came downstairs wearing his auror robes and found Hermione whipping up a feast. Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, hash browns, sausage, toast, fresh strawberries, and a pitcher of orange juice decorated the kitchen table, and there was a plate all dished up and waiting for him.

"This looks amazing, love," he said.

Hermione poured herself a cup of coffee and walked over to the table. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips as he sat down. "I doubt this will quell a Weasley appetite, but who knows how long it will be before you eat lunch or dinner, so eat up," she quietly instructed.

Ron smiled as she sat down next to him. He shoveled in a mouthful of eggs and watched Hermione pull her knees up to her chest, balancing her coffee mug on her knee with a hand while she opted out of eating and instead read the muggle newspaper instead. "It tastes delicious," he said as he swallowed.

She looked up from her newspaper and smiled. "Good. I also packed you away some snacks."

Ron could see that she was trying her best to be excited, but he could see in her eyes that she was still scared, even if her face was saying otherwise. But he wasn't going to push anything with her this morning. He didn't want to fight with her before he left to meet his team at the port key. So he instead made small talk, being mindful to do so without a mouthful of food as he knew nothing irritated her more, and was pleased when she responded in sentences instead of short, one word answers. "I was thinking," he said as he finished up plate number two. "That maybe after this we could go on a holiday."

Hermione looked up from her newspaper. "A holiday?"

"We've both got the time saved up," he said. "And we've never done a holiday together - I reckon it would be fun."

Smiling, Hermione gave him a nod. "It would be fun. Do you have somewhere in mind?"

"Anywhere that involves you, a beach, and a bikini," Ron teased as he stabbed a sausage off of the sausage plate and shoved it into his mouth."

Hermione blushed slightly, shaking her head as she took a sip of her coffee. "We'll see what we can manage."

A few more pieces of bacon tucked away, Ron downed his second glass of orange juice and then removed Hermione's coffee mug from her hand. He leaned over and grabbed the leg of the chair she sat in and pulled it so that her chair butted up to his. He wiggled his eyebrows and Hermione rolled her eyes, but moved so that she was now sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped languidly around his neck. "I love you," he said.

"I love you," she replied with a hint of a smile. "And I'm sorry we rowed last night…but I don't feel any differently. I trust you and your judgment implicitly. But like I said last night - I just don't trust anybody else."

"What about Harry?"

"I trust Harry more than I trust anyone else, but that's not enough. Besides - he's still wrapping up the illegal dragon exchange case so I know he's not going with," Hermione said. "I know you'll be brilliant," she said, almost as if it were a confession, and leaned in to kiss him, which Ron returned with equal enthusiasm. As she broke away for air, she kissed the tip of his freckled nose. "I'll wait up for you tonight."

"It'll be late."

"I'll be up…probably researching our impending holiday."

He feigned a groan. "You aren't going to make the entire bloody thing educational, are you?"

"Well if we're going to be near something worth seeing, it would be a shame to miss an opportunity!" Hermione exclaimed with a sly grin. She kissed him again and reluctantly climbed off of his lap. "You need to get going."

He noticed the immediate turn in her tone of voice, the sadness in her voice not hidden a bit. He stood up from the kitchen table and brushed the non-existent wrinkles from the sleeves of his robes. Ron watched as she picked at her fingernails. "Hey," he said, reaching out and grabbing her hand. "Guess what?"

Hermione shrugged. "What?"

He leaned in and gave her a sweet kiss. "I love you."

She smiled. "I love you too."

He kissed her again. "See you tonight?"

"See you tonight."

Ron smiled. He kissed her once more for good luck, keeping that part to himself, and walked towards the floo in the living room.

Hermione followed, her arms crossed tightly against her chest as she leaned against the hallway frame that connected the dining room to the living room. She gave him a small wave in return of him flashing her his goofy grin before disappearing into the floo. Exhaling heavily, Hermione grasped the back of her neck with her and squeezed it tight for a moment. "Everything will be fine," she told herself. "Everything will be fine."

* * *

The hours ticked away slowly. It was the longest Saturday of Hermione's life. She baked three casseroles to bake later in the week for dinner, read two books, made notes in the margins of a bridal magazine for Ginny as she was _still_ undecided on a dress and the wedding was three months away, and that only got her to noon. So she cleaned the house, top to bottom, dusting the corners, and vacuuming every square inch of carpet, but because she was rather diligent on keeping the house clean, that barely got her to two o'clock.

She took Ron's advice after eating a late lunch and grabbed some travel books out of her office and began to flip through them, trying to conjure up ideas of where the two of them could go on holiday. She wasn't sure if Ron's request of her in a skimpy bikini would work out, as she carried quite a collection of scars from the war. A glamour charm could only cover so much. Maybe if they found themselves at a private resort, but she also wanted to go somewhere that had a fair bit of sight seeing, like Egypt and the pyramids, or ancient Mayan temples. Eventually, she decided on Greece, because it had the beaches Ron was looking for and some fantastic sites to see. Hermione was certain that he'd probably roll his eyes at a bunch of nearly crumbled buildings, but she'd find a way to make it up to him…once she got done explaining to him that they had Greece to thank when it came to civilization, democracy, and a number of other things.

Antsy didn't even begin to describe how she was feeling once Hermione prepared, ate, and cleaned up her dinner around six thirty. She knew Ron said he'd be home later that evening, but having him and his safety on her mind all day, Hermione was about to drive herself mental. Needing something else to pass the time, she decided to busy herself by baking treacle tarts - one of Ron's favorite treats. When the floo sounded at a quarter after eight, Hermione bolted towards the living room, only to have George and his lanky arms catch her before she ran straight into him.

"Easy there, Granger," he teased. "I'm the wrong Weasley."

She rolled her eyes at his joke. "Sorry, I though -"

"Do you really need to tell me you thought I was Ron?" he continued to joke.

Hermione blushed slightly. "I suppose not." Dusting the flour off of her hands against the pink and black polka dot apron she wore, she turned on a heel and walked back towards the kitchen. "Might I ask what you're doing here?"

George chuckled. "Do you plan on giving me some of whatever it is that you're baking in here?"

"Depends," she said, picking up a knife to carve into the one finished treacle tart dish. She had one in the over and one more to put in afterwards. "What did you do?"

"I knocked up Angelina."

Hermione stopped what she was doing and looked up at him in shock. "You did what?"

"You heard me."

"You're not joking."

"She told me this morning, we went to see a healer this afternoon, and I have photographic evidence that there is a tiny witch or wizard living inside of her," George said. He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a moving photograph to give to her. "See - there it is. It looks a bit like a blob, but the healer promised me that it was a baby."

Hermione took the photograph. She'd seen muggle sonogram photos before, but seeing her first wizarding sonogram photo, as silly as it sounded in her head, almost made her feel as if she hadn't seen anything magical before. Watching the sonogram waves flutter in the five-second loop as the little baby shifted was one of the sweetest things she'd ever seen. "Oh George," she said with a wistful sigh. "It's beautiful. When will you know if you're having a boy or a girl?"

"We're having a boy," George said with a genuine grin. "The healer performed a spell before we left."

Hermione returned his smile with one of her own. "So…baby Fred?"

George nodded. "That's what Ange wants, anyway."

"And you?"

"I reckon we could use another Fred around here," he said with a bit of a sad smile. "That's where I came from, actually, the cemetery that is. I had to tell him first, and then I came to tell Ron, but I forgot he had a mission today."

Hermione made quick work of carving out a piece of treacle tart, placing it onto a plate for George. She walked it over to their kitchen table, and gave George a big hug before he could sit down. "Are you excited?" she asked as she pulled away.

He nodded, carving into the tart with a fork. "I am. I was a bit taken aback at first, but Ange and I have been together for over a year. I'm more worried about telling Mum and Dad - mostly Mum of course. We know she'll insist on us getting married and Ange doesn't want to take away from Ginny's impending nuptials…so we're a bit spooked there, but I told Ange not to stress about it, and that I'd figure something out."

Hermione nodded, taking a seat in her usual spot at the table. "So what do you think you'll do?"

"That's what you're for, Granger," George said with a mouthful of treacle tart. "You're the brightest witch of our age, are you not?"

She snorted. "I'm not sure that title qualifies me in any way to help fix this problem."

"But you're a thinker, Granger," George argued. "You're always the brains of the operation, and Merlin knows any smarts my brother had didn't happen until he met you so…help me. Tell me what I should do."

Hermione sighed. "George…"

"Oh come on Granger," he pleaded. "At the very least help me brainstorm!"

"Alright!" she exclaimed, pulling her feet up onto her chair so she could hug her knees to her chest. "Well…do Angelina's parents know?"

George nodded. "We told them today."

"And?"

"And…I don't know…they seemed really excited," George said with another mouthful. "They aren't all that bothered that we aren't married and such. They're not like Mum."

Hermione nodded. She tucked her curly hair back behind her ears - one at a time - and leaned back in her chair. "Do you want to marry Angelina?"

George shrugged. "I reckon so. I love her, and she…you know…she was really there for me right after Fred died, and yeah…I definitely don't want to be without her."

"So why not elope?" Hermione suggested. "If you do that, you can tell your mum and dad that you eloped, and as soon as your Mum gets ready to shout you can tell her that she's going to be a grandmother again and she'll forget all about yelling at you." She reached over and stole a broken off piece of his treacle tart and popped it into her mouth. "At the very least, she won't yell at Angelina. You're probably going to be yelled at regardless."

"Yeah…I figured that much," George said with a wry smirk. "This is delicious by the way. I didn't know you were such a baker."

"I'm not sure Ron would have kept me around this long if I couldn't bake…or cook for that matter," Hermione teased.

"You could feed him burnt pancakes as thick as a brick and the bloke would still love you," George replied.

She blushed again. "That's awfully nice of you to say."

"It's the truth," George stated. "My brother's completely mental when it comes to you."

"The feeling is mutual," Hermione replied, stealing a glance at the clock on the wall. "I just wish he'd get home already."

George finished up his treacle tart and got up to help himself to a glass of milk. "I can wait around with you if you'd like."

She smiled. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I'm sure you'd much rather be celebrating with Angelina."

He downed the small glass of milk he poured in one gulp and exhaled with a satisfied sigh. "This is probably true. You can come over to our place if you'd like. Ginny's staying with Mum, working on more wedding stuff if I remember correctly. Harry should get back later this week if I remember Ginny correctly."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I'd rather just stay here and wait for him."

"Well, if you change your mind, we're just a floo ride away," George offered. "And thanks for the advice…and the snack."

She stood up from her chair just as the oven timer went off. She exchanged the freshly baked treacle tart for the last one to bake, then wrapped up the one she cut into and gave it to George. "Consider it my congratulations present," she said.

George grinned. "Thanks! Oh, and Granger, can I ask one more question?"

"Of course."

"If Ange goes for this whole elopement idea, which is bloody brilliant, would you and Ron come as witnesses? I know Ron would go of course, but I'd want you to be there too."

"I wouldn't miss it," Hermione promised, tapping a hand over her heart. "Promise. Just give us a date."

He lifted the plate of treacle tart in her direction as to say thanks, and Hermione watched as he apparated out of sight. She waited what seemed to be the longest forty-five minutes of her life at that moment for the last treacle tart to finish baking, and decided once the kitchen was cleaned up that maybe a bath would relax her. Her mind hadn't had a moment's rest the entire day and she could feel her muscles begin to tense from the stress of her consistent worrying. But she couldn't help but worry. Put a boggart in front of her and it would reveal her biggest fear - a life without Ron - and the fear was paralyzing.

Sinking into a bubble filled tub, Hermione closed her eyes and remembered back to the first honest conversation the two of them had when she came back from Australia. The two of them were lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard at the Burrow, watching the stars twinkle against the pitch-black sky. Ron was holding her hand, squeezing it ever so often as he spoke.

"_I was so scared when I left you both," he told her quietly, and she immediately knew what he was talking about. "And I did - I wanted to go back as soon as I left but I knew your charms were too good and I'd never find you and I…I don't want you to think I'd ever leave you. Again, that is. I hope you know that." _

_Hermione nodded, still staring up at the night sky. "I know you won't leave me again," she said after a few quiet moments. _

"_Do you?" _

"_I do," she promised._

_Ron sighed. "No offense, Hermione, but you don't sound all that convincing." _

_She rolled her head towards him and sighed. "Do you still want to be an auror?" _

_He nodded. "I really think I could be a good one. I really do." _

"_I'm sure you'll be brilliant," Hermione agreed. _

"_I'm not sure what this has to do with me believing you though," he said with a half laugh, almost as if he were nervous to hear her real answer. _

_Hermione gave him a sad sort of smile. "I know you'll never leave me. But you're going to be an auror, and who knows how long it will take for things in our world to calm down…and I just…"_

"_Just what?" he asked gently._

"_I'm just nervous," she confessed. "I don't want you taken away from me."_

That night was also the first night that the two of them decided to become intimate. It started out as innocent kissing later that night, the two of them snuggled up under the blankets as the cool summer night's breeze blew through the room in welcomed lulls. Neither of them really remembered how it evolved from there, but neither regretted what happened afterwards. Hermione knew that they were each other's first, but all the awkwardness she'd heard about from other girls' tales while living in the dorms was nonexistent. She later assumed that the bumbling and fumbling she'd heard girls in her year talk about had to do with the fact that those girls weren't ready for what they were doing, or maybe they didn't trust who they were with completely, whereas Hermione trusted Ron implicitly. He had her heart…he always had her heart, even when he didn't know it, and Hermione wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Knowing where the two of them were now, though she couldn't see it back then, was worth every fight and every tear.

Hermione crawled into bed late that night, clad in a pair of her pajama pants and one of Ron's old quidditch shirts. As the clock neared midnight, she felt her heart race, and eventually took a calming potion because Hermione knew there was no reason for her to work herself up into a state. Ron said he'd be home late. Ron promised he would be fine. If that's what he promised, Hermione had to trust that he would be fine. So she curled up on his side of the bed, burying her face into his pillow so that his lingering scent overwhelmed her senses with each breath, and fell asleep.

She didn't hear Ron come in later that evening, but her eyes bolted open the moment she felt a pair of lips brush against her forehead. "Ron!" she exclaimed, launching herself onto him, hugging him tight. "Are you alright? What time is it!"

"Almost four," she head him reply, a bit tiredly.

Hermione clicked on the side table lamp and took a good look at him, noticing that he'd probably taken a shower at the Ministry but he had several cuts and bruises on his face that he did not have when he left. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Just a bit banged up, but it's nothing that can't be fixed. Promise."

She moved over to her side of the bed and watched him shrug out of his auror robes and into his pajamas, catching a few other bruises and cuts along his backside. "Did your plan work?" she asked as he joined her in bed, shutting off the light as he swung his leg up and under the covers already warmed for him.

Ron nodded. "We got 'em all."

"Really!"

"Really," Ron replied through a gigantic yawn. "We got back a few hours ago, but I had to speak with Kingsley."

Hermione propped herself up a little bit with her pillows as Ron rolled over to her, hugging with head resting on her chest. She raked her fingers through his hair, and smiled as he moaned ever so slightly. She knew it was one of his favorite things - her fingers scratching and rubbing his scalp. "Is everything ok? Was anyone hurt?"

He sighed, hugging her a bit tighter. "There was a really close call…but it doesn't matter now."

She kissed the top of his head. "I'm sure Kingsley was very pleased."

"Mmhmm," he mumbled. "But I resigned as a field auror. It's what I was talking to him about afterwards. I'm going to work on devising and strategizing plans from now on, but I won't be going into the field…not anymore."

"What!"

Ron looked up at her, exhausted and confused. "I'm not going to be a field auror."

"But you love being a field auror!" she exclaimed.

He shook his head. "The allure is gone, I promise." He moved head back to where it was and sighed. "Besides, all I could think about today was you, and your anxiety if something were to happen to me, and then when we were in the middle of it and the building collapsed -"

"A building collapsed! Oh my God Ron! What happened!"

"I'll tell you later," he said, trying to calm her down. "That part isn't important. What's important was what I realized…once we had everyone accounted for and all of the death eaters tied up and ready for transport."

"Oh?" she asked, a bit more subdued.

He nodded, his hand playing with the hem of the large shirt she was wearing. It took him a minute to realize it was actually one of his shirts, which made him chuckle, despite his exhaustion. "Why are you sleeping in this?" he asked.

Hermione looked down and shrugged. "Because I fell asleep alone, and on the rare occasion that you aren't here, this is what I do. I sleep in your shirts and I bury myself into your side of the bed and it makes me feel better."

"I didn't know that," Ron quietly murmured.

"Well, now you do," Hermione replied with a smile, even though she knew Ron couldn't see it. Sighing, she moved her hand down and gently massaged the nape of his neck for several minutes as the two enjoyed the silence. "I don't want you giving up your dream," she said after a bit. "Do not do this because of me. I'll eventually get used to it."

Ron shook his head slightly against her chest. "It has nothing to do with you being uncomfortable. I just had the epiphany tonight as we were leading the non-compliant death eaters over to the port key for transportation back to the Ministry that…well, I reckon I want to have little redheaded babies with you too someday, and I can't keep promising you that I'll be ok if I consistently put myself into danger." He yawned, largely and loudly, and resumed snuggling up against his girlfriend. I'm going to stick with what I'm good at and leave the hero work to those who want the glory, because it's not worth it for me. Not anymore." Ron looked back up at Hermione, and noticed the tears welling up in her eyes. "I love you."

Hermione sniffled slightly. "I love you too. I hate that you're a field auror, but I don't want you to give up what you love. I could never ask you to do that."

"You are what I love, Hermione," Ron said. He crawled up her just a little bit so that he could kiss her lips, and had he not been so tired, it would have been more than just a kiss. "A job is a job, but you are everything," he whispered in her ear. "And tonight that hit home for me more than it ever has, and I'll tell you more about it if you want later but right now…I just want to sleep in this bed with you."

"Alright," she softly replied. She reached behind her and grabbed a pillow, getting herself situated so that Ron could wrap himself around her from behind, holding her backside as close to his chest as he could with his protective hold around her. "I love you."

She felt him nod. "I love you too," Ron murmured.

Hermione was nearly asleep when she heard Ron mumble her name. "Yes?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Did I smell treacle tart when I came home?"

Hermione stifled a laugh. "Yes, sweetheart. There's two whole tarts downstairs just for you."

He kissed the back of her neck. "You really are the best girlfriend ever, Hermione."

She closed her eyes and smiled. "Goodnight, Ron."

"Goodnight, love."


	4. Chapter 4

_**I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

Hermione had become accustomed to waking up in a cocoon of arms and legs wrapped around her in the following months that she had been home from school. Living together in the house Ron had put so much thought and effort into had been a seamless transition - which Hermione found much comfort in knowing that Harry and Ginny seemed to be going through some growing pains as they were now engaged and living together in Grimmauld Place. Hermione chalked a lot of it up to the fact that the 'small, simple wedding' that Harry had been championing for was turning into a circus, and his bride to be wasn't doing much to pull the reigns back a bit. Harry was over at the house last night, Hermione turning in around eleven that evening once she realized that between the fierce game of wizarding chess and the half empty bottle of Ogden's between them, it would be a late night for the two of them. She barely noticed Ron climbing into bed a few hours later, but assumed that he would still be in bed that morning when Hermione opened her eyes and found herself free to move about, and the space next to her cool to the touch. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she found a note on Ron's pillow with his familiar chicken scratch.

_Went to your parents. Thought I'd let you sleep in - feel free to come on over when you wake up. Love, Ron_

She couldn't imagine what on earth Ron was doing at her parents' house before nine in the morning on a Saturday - especially after a night of drinking with Harry. Figuring she'd find out when she got there, Hermione climbed out of bed and took a quick shower. Ron might assume that the library he built for her was her favorite room in the house - but Hermione was quite certain that their large shower in the master bathroom could easily tie for the number one spot. Tiled along three sides with the other wall made of glass, it was large enough for the both of them when they were in the mood to share, and Hermione was particularly fond of the tiled bench area he had installed so she could shave her legs the Muggle way without having to attempt an awkward balancing act.

She slipped into a pair of gray linen shorts, threw on a white sleeveless blouse, and grabbed a black cardigan to slip over her bare arms. Hermione placed a bit of makeup on her face, tied her hair up into a low, messy side bun, and slipped her feet into a pair of flats, giving herself a final once over look in the mirror. She was glad that spring was here, because that meant Harry and Ginny's wedding was around the corner, and the sooner the chaos of this wedding was over the happier everyone would be.

"Hermione!" her mother cried with an excited clap of her hands, catching her daughter walking through the fireplace as she came down the stairs. "Ron said you'd probably be along once you woke up."

Dropping her purse on the couch, Hermione smiled and greeted her mother with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek. "How long has he been here?"

Jean looked over at the grandfather clock down the hall. "It's what, a bit after nine thirty? I reckon he got here a bit before eight. He's on the roof cleaning out the gutters for what I'm hoping is the final time this year."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "Ron - my Ron - is on your roof, cleaning out the gutters? On a Saturday morning?"

Jean laughed. "Don't look so surprised, Darling. Ron has been a wonderful help around the house, especially when you were at school your last year, helping your father out with things that I'm not particularly wild about him doing anymore - like cleaning out the gutters." She motioned with a nod of her head for Hermione to follow her into the kitchen, where the smell of freshly baked cookies floated through the air - chocolate peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to be exact - which also happened to be Ron's favorite sort of cookie. "Your father likes to think he's still twenty-two," Jean said as she pulled out another batch of cookies from the oven. "But that hip he thinks doesn't need to be replaced is going to need to be replaced soon, and therefore him bounding about up on the rooftop is just out of the question." She tossed the oven mitts onto the counter and turned around to smile at her daughter. "Ron really has just been a lifesaver - your father might be more smitten with him than you are."

Hermione sighed with a smile, shaking her head slightly. "So…exactly how much time has Ron spent with you two?"

"Well…when you were away at school, he started coming over every Saturday morning," Jean replied as she moved the cookies from the tray to the cooling rack with the others. "He comes over, helps your father with whatever project needs tending to, I feed them lunch, and then they play chess - your father is very much into Wizarding chess. I personally find the entire thing barbaric but he gets such a kick out of his pieces slaughtering Ron's."

"It's _completely_ barbaric," Hermione agreed. "But he loves it…it's one of the things Ron's always been very good at. Harry can never beat him and it drives him mental. He has a very strategic mind."

"Your father's yet to beat him - but he's been close a few times," Jean replied with a grin. "Have you eaten breakfast?"

She shook her head.

"Would you like some? I can whip you up an egg sandwich if you like."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Mum." Taking a seat at the small table in the kitchen, she picked up the newspaper on the table, already read by her father as it was folded up in the opposite way that it came, and began to put it back in its rightful state before beginning to read the headlines.

Jean brought her over a cup of coffee and a few minutes later, a egg sandwich with a cup of coffee for herself. "Ron said at breakfast that the wedding planning for Harry and Ginny is going less than stellar."

Nodding, Hermione took a bite of her sandwich and closed her eyes as she chewed. Her mother was more of a baker than a cook - much like Hermione - but there were a few things her mother did perfectly and her egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich was one of them. "He was up late last night with Harry - playing chess and drinking. Harry has just been so frustrated lately, and I have been too, but I'm stuck in the middle and I never know what to do anymore. The wedding is in two months and quite frankly, it could not get here soon enough."

Chuckling, Jean took a sip of her straight black coffee while Hermione finished up her sandwich. She'd been hearing bits and pieces about the wedding from both Ron and Hermione, and it was hard not to agree that things were starting to sound a little bit overboard. "Does Ginny not realize how big the wedding is becoming?"

Hermione swallowed a snort as she finished off her sandwich. "She's a Weasley. They don't know what the definition of 'too big' is. And I don't mean that in a bad way, necessarily, but take their need to celebrate everything and add in the savior of the Wizarding World - I'm not sure the Burrow will be big enough for all the guests." Cleaning up her plate full of toast crumbs, she walked the dish over to the sink, rinsed it off, and popped it into the dishwasher. "The more I have to help with this wedding, the more I want to elope when the day comes."

Jean laughed. "Ron said the same thing this morning."

"He did not."

"Ask your father," Jean dared. "He said the whole thing was 'bloody mental' and that he'd rather elope - but then quickly amended his statement to include the fact that your father and I could come."

Hermione shook her head. "He's insane if he thinks his mother would ever let him get away with it."

"He said that too," Jean added for good measure. "Have you two talked…you know…about marriage?"

She returned to her seat at the breakfast table and crossed one leg over the other. "Just that we're obviously going to marry each other…but we have no plans to do it in the near future. I think Harry and Ginny are too young, personally, and there are things Ron and I want to do, individually and together, before we take that step," Hermione explained in her logical tone, which she also inherited from her mother. When she would explain something to her father in that tone of voice when she was younger, her father would always laugh, shake his head, and tell Hermione,_ Whatever you say, Jean_.

Jean reached a hand over and grabbed Hermione's and gave it a squeeze. "There's nothing wrong with that - and you shouldn't let anyone make you feel that it is."

Hermione couldn't help but grimace. "Ron told you about his mother, didn't he?"

"He may have mentioned that Molly, while being full of good intentions, has been asking at rather frequent intervals about you and Ron's future plans."

She rolled her eyes. "She's just driving me crazy, Mum! She and Ginny both! If she and Harry want to get married and have babies before they are twenty then so be it because it's there life but _I _don't want that and _neither_ does Ron! He doesn't want a gigantic family, he doesn't want the constant hustle and bustle, and he's always razzed on by his brothers and nagged by his mother about what he does or _doesn't_ do and now that I'm saying this aloud…it's no wonder he's spent so much time over here when I was at school! You two probably kept him sane!"

Jean squeezed her hand once more. "We are very fond of him, mostly because he's _incredibly_ fond of you - but just like we told him, and have told him, your father and I will support whatever you two decide to do, whenever you decide to do it."

* * *

"Ron, did those leaves do something to personally offend you, other than float into the gutter after we cleaned them out last fall?" Richard asked in a jovial tone, as he watched Ron scoop out the damp, clumps of leaves with his glove clad hands and chucking it down to the ground with much gusto. "Because if they offended you, I'm sure they didn't mean it."

Wiping his brow with his sleeve covered forearm, Ron took a breather for a moment and sat back on the slant of the roof facing the front of the house. He was almost finished, and had probably been using the cleaning of the gutters as a way to relieve some of his frustration as of late, but was obviously unaware until Richard pointed it out to him. "Sorry," he said. "It's just been a long week."

"But everything's ok with you and my daughter.?"

"Of course," Ron said quickly. "Like I said at breakfast - Harry and Ginny's wedding is just…consuming everyone's lives at the moment."

Richard nodded. "Well, if it makes you feel better, this ought to be the last time until next year that my wife makes you climb up onto the roof of our house because she thinks I'm going to kill myself if I do it."

Ron laughed as he went to finishing up the rest of the remaining gutter. "She and Hermione are a lot alike…so it's probably best for everyone involved if you just let her be the boss. That's what I do anyway. With Hermione, that is." Tossing the remaining goop of leaves down to the ground for Richard to rake up and bag, he made his way carefully over to the ladder and climbed down. "Besides - I don't mind being helpful. I'm actually getting good at doing things the Muggle way, and that makes Hermione happy because she's very serious about having a good balance between the two."

"My daughter? Serious? You must be talking about someone else," Richard mocked. He held the garbage bag open and let Ron take the rake to pile up the remainder of the mess to bag up for the trash pickup on Monday. "I assume there are probably better things you could be doing with your Saturday morning, by the way, so thank you for coming over to help."

Ron shook his head. "Don't even mention it. Honestly - I like feeling useful - and if you're wife is going to trade my help for cookies - well, it's not a bad deal for me."

Grabbing another full garbage bag, Ron carried the two of them as he followed Richard back over to the garage, depositing them into the large rubbish bins with wheels. "How are things at work for you two?" Richard asked, taking a seat on the garage doorsteps that lead into the house.

Ron sat down next to Richard and nodded. "Good. Harry and I work in different areas now, which was weird in the beginning, but it's great. He's my best mate and all, but like Hermione always says - Harry's always going to cast a 100 meter shadow over anything he's involved with, and it's kind of nice to be recognized for what I can do, instead of being Harry Potter's side kick. He's a field auror, and I now work with the teams that create the plans and maps and backup plans for the field aurors."

"Sounds like that's right up your alley," Richard encouragingly replied. "And often times - those are the most important members of the team. After all, you can't execute a plan if you don't have one, right?"

Ron chuckled. "I reckon so. And Hermione - she's only been there a few months and she already works too hard, but she's going to do great things for our world. Everyone's already talking about it."

Beaming with pride, Richard nodded. "I always knew my daughter would find a way to make her mark on the world. Of course, I didn't add in the whole witch factor, but I still remember the day Professor McGonagall came to our house to tell us about your world in every detail, and I remember late that evening my wife pacing, convinced she was losing her mind, and furious with me because I didn't seemed panicked at all. But how could I be panicked? An odd woman in a peculiar hat came into my house and confirmed to me what I'd always known - that my daughter was exceptionally extraordinary. We've of course had our reservations and hesitations - especially right before your all's sixth year - but we don't regret for a moment letting her go into your world."

"Did you know everyone calls your daughter "the Brightest Witch of Our Age?" Ron asked.

"Really? I thought that was just some sort of mickey you all took out of her because she's so smart?"

"Oh no - everyone says it," Ron confirmed. "She's bloody brilliant at everything she does, and it definitely does not go unrecognized." He leaned back against the stairs and stretched out one leg, then the other. "Can I ask you a question, Richard?"

"Certainly, Son. Ask away."

Ron paused a moment before speaking, popping the knuckles on his hands. "Are you…or, really, will you and your wife think less of me if Hermione and I do wait a few years before getting married, or if I wait a few years before _actually_ asking her, officially that is? My little sister is getting married, Percy just got in engaged, George and Angelina eloped back at Christmas and they're about to have a baby. My parents have already accepted that my oldest brother, Charlie, will be a bachelor forever, and it's not that I haven't _found_ who I want to marry, but I can't seem to get my family to realize that Hermione doesn't need to wear a ring for me to be as serious as I am about her - and she doesn't want it either. At least not yet, anyway…the ring that is."

Richard could see that Ron was trying to sound nonchalant about his rambling question, but the seriousness of his inquiry was written all over his face. "I'm the youngest of four brothers, did you know?"

Ron shook his head. "Hermione mentioned you had brothers, but I didn't know you were the youngest."

"Well, I am, and I always will be," Richard said with a wry laugh. "And sometimes that worked out for me, and other times…well…sometimes I felt like my parents, when it came to be my turn to experience something for the first time, acted like it wasn't a big deal because my three brothers had already done it. My oldest brother, Jack, was an excellent athlete. Not a sport he couldn't play. Then there was Tommy, and he was a master negotiator. There wasn't anything he couldn't talk his way out of, and it's probably why he's a successful salesman today. Todd is much like your twin brothers - always making people laugh, always has a joke up his sleeve, and no one can ever be mad at him because even when he's infuriating, he just has this charm about him that works as a get out of jail card, so to speak."

"That's exactly how Fred and George used to be," Ron said with a fond smile. "George still is that way, though it's not as in your face as it used to be. When we were younger, they would prank Mum all the time and she'd be furious for about thirty seconds, before hugging them both and scurrying them away."

Richard nodded. "By the time it became my turn to do anything, one of my brothers had already done it, and more often than not, had done it better. So when school was finally over and it was time to decide on what to do when I got to university, I did the only thing I knew I could do that none of them had come close to attempting - and I became a doctor. Well, a dentist, anyway, but I'm still referred to as Dr. Granger."

Ron chuckled. "You're right about that."

"My parents nagged me to death about marrying Jean and having grandchildren," Richard continued. "And we did appease them, getting married right at the end of dental school, but we didn't have Hermione until Jean and I had managed to establish a practice - one that could survive Jean being out on maternity leave at that. We were married at least five, maybe six years before Jean got pregnant. We didn't intend of course to wait that long, it's just how it happened. Jean getting pregnant was a right miracle after years of trying, and we tried to have another a year after Hermione turned one, but it was just never meant to be. My brothers have ten kids between the three of them - all of them boys - and we just have Hermione. And we still hear about it to this day. Families are a tricky thing, Ron. You can't live with them, but you can't live without them. But if you accept the fact that they won't change, life gets a little bit easier."

It was hard for Ron not to feel sympathetic towards Richard's story, knowing that Hermione had always wanted a sibling. He also found great comfort in Richard's story, in the similarities between the two of them. He and Richard had developed a good rapport while Hermione was away at school, and he was one of the very few people he felt like he could be completely honest with and not immediately judged in return.

"And the best part about deciding to become a dentist was that if I hadn't, I would have never met Jean," Richard added with a twinkle in his eye. "Hell, I may not have passed our first course if it hadn't been for her dragging me to the library every spare moment we had."

"I reckon I can give Hermione credit for getting through six years of Hogwarts because of her dragging my lazy ass to the library," Ron said with a smirk. "Thank goodness too - it definitely rubbed off on me during training - being able to make myself sit down and study." Sighing, he rubbed his hands on top of his knees and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I reckon I just get bogged down by everything everyone says…when really all I need to worry about is what she thinks, you know?"

"Absolutely," Richard said, standing up to his feet. "After all, the only two opinions that really matter in regards to what you both want to do with your lives are yours and hers. Don't mind what the peanut gallery says."

"The peanut gallery?"

"It's a Muggle phrase, as you call it," Richard clarified with a laugh. "It just means don't let outsiders influence your decisions, because they have nothing to do with what you want." He walked up the steps and clapped Ron on the back as he walked past. "Let's head inside and see if those cookies are done. I believe our hard work this morning has earned us a treat!"

"Sounds like an excellent plan," Ron replied, smirking as he followed Richard back into the house.

* * *

The two of them returned back to their house that afternoon, after enjoying a nice long lunch with her parents. Ron barely had time to put down the plastic bag filled to the brim with cookies before Hermione launched herself onto him, hugging him tightly before placing a searing kiss to his lips.

"Well what on earth was that for?" he asked with a laugh as Hermione pulled away. "Not that I minded it, of course."

"Why didn't you tell me that you had been taking care of my parents while I was away?" she asked in a whisper.

Ron shrugged. "I wasn't taking care of them…I was just helping your dad out, and I figured this way, it would let them get to know me a bit better. Besides – I like spending time with them."

She traced a finger along the white horizontal lines of his maroon shirt and sighed. "Sometimes I forget that you're not the boy I grew up with. You certainly wouldn't have gotten up after a night of drinking with Harry to go and clean out gutters of all things without magic a year or two ago."

He plucked her nose with his finger and smirked. "Well, you've been nagging me for years to grow up - maybe I finally just went ahead and did it without you noticing."

"Maybe you did," Hermione said with a smile. "I love that my parents love you."

"Me too," he said with a laugh. "And I really love your parents, Hermione. They've helped me out loads too while you were away. It's nice to have someone else I can talk to the way that I talk about things with you." He yawned, not bothering to cover it up or stifle it in the slightest, and then grinned slightly at Hermione's giggle. "Don't laugh at me - cleaning gutters is hard work you know!"

She gave his chest a few light love taps with her hand and walked past him. "There might be a football game on TV. Maybe you could go relax for a bit before we have to go to your parents' tonight? God knows we're going to wind up leaving there with matching migraines." Retrieving a beer out of the fridge for Ron and a bottled water for her, Hermione handed him the beer and the two of them made their way into the living room. Watching Ron plop down onto the couch, she gave him a faux scowl and rolled her eyes. "Must you drop down onto the couch like a dead weight? You're going to ruin it one of these days."

"I can't help it," Ron replied with a smirk.

Grabbing her book from the coffee table, Hermione sat down next to him, tucking her legs up underneath her as she leaned into his chest, propping her bottled water up against his leg. "And might I ask _why?"_

Ron magicked the beer bottle cap off of the glass bottle and then vanished the metal cap. "Because we don't fight like we used to - which don't get me wrong - I don't miss it - but I do like pushing your buttons every now and then."

Shaking her head, she opened up her book and resumed her reading from the night before about uncommonly known facts regarding werewolves and felt him kiss the top of her head. "You're such an idiot sometimes," she quietly spoke with a faint laugh.

Ron laughed, taking a swig of his beer. Retrieving the remote, he turned on the telly and flipped through the channels until he found a football game. "Just as long as you remember that I'm your idiot."

"It'd be pretty hard to forget," she plainly replied with a flick of a page, a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

It didn't take long for Ron to fall asleep, just as Hermione predicted he would. Last night was probably the first night she hadn't felt him toss and turn about, and that was probably due to the amount of whiskey in his system. The insistent nagging from his family while they planned Ginny's wedding was clearly wearing on him, but there wasn't a whole they could do about it. Avoiding his family wasn't even a plausible option, but what bothered Hermione the most was that the family Ron cared so much about clearly had no idea how much their words affected their youngest son. She grabbed the knit throw from her side of the couch and draped it over the two of them, pecking his cheek lightly with a kiss before she resumed her reading.

Two hours into her reading, Hermione finished her book and realized that Ron was still sound asleep. She managed to get up without disturbing him, and placed her book back on the coffee table. They were supposed to be over at the Burrow around five, but the more Hermione thought about it, the more she wasn't feeling it. She had a dull ache beginning to grow in her head, and knew a loud, boisterous Burrow crowd would only exacerbate what had the potential to increase in size and pain.

Every spare moment they'd had and wedding planning had monopolized every weekend and Hermione decided that she would rather spend the weekend with her boyfriend with some much-needed peace and quiet. She sent a patronus off to Harry, and made her way to the kitchen pantry so that she could find what she needed to make lasagna - one of Ron's favorite dishes.

Hermione never really ever saw herself as a domestic sort of person, but when she and Ron moved in together, she realized that there were some things she truly enjoyed. One of these things was cooking. Some of it had to do with seeking redemption from the times she had to make food while they were hunting for Horcruxes, bot most of it had to do with the brilliant look on Ron's face when she'd mastered a new recipe.

She was spreading a garlic butter spread onto the halved loaf of French bread she purchased from the market the day before when Ron tiredly shuffled into the kitchen, his nose leading the way as the lasagna had about fifteen minutes left in the oven. "Hermione…not that this doesn't smell…amazing," Ron said through a gigantic yawn. "But aren't we eating dinner at Mum and Dad's tonight?"

Hermione shook her head as she dolloped more of the butter garlic spread on to the bread and smeared it about. "I decided we could do with a little bit of peace and quiet."

"Mum's going to kill us."

"No she won't," Hermione stated.

"Yes she will."

"If she does she can't plan our wedding or help name the nine grandchildren she thinks my body will be producing."

Ron barked out a laugh as Hermione, wearing a smug grin, popped the cookie sheet with her two halves of garlic bread into the oven on the top rack. "We're not having nine kids."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

"Two will be more than plenty."

"Absolutely."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound surprised?"

He walked past her to pull out plates and silverware from the cabinets and drawers. "I didn't mean to sound surprised. I reckon we haven't talked much about kids…except that they're in the very far future." Setting the small kitchen table, he took a seat and watched Hermione retrieve a bottle of wine from the rack on the counter. Glasses and a bottle in hand, he stood up enough to pull out her chair as she sat down. "This is a good idea, by the way. Dinner…just the two of us."

Hermione smiled as she uncorked the wine. "I thought it would be."

"Harry and Ginny's wedding is becoming a bloody time suck."

She didn't bother minding him about his language because Hermione felt the same way. Drumming her fingers on the table, Ron took the bottle from her and poured a glass for her, then one for him. "Thanks."

"What did say to get out of dinner tonight?" Ron asked.

"I sent Harry a message and told him I had a migraine," Hermione nonchalantly replied.

"A migraine! Why didn't you say something?" Ron asked, his voice laced with concern. He knew migraines were a frequent source of frustration for her, a lingering side effect from being under the cruciatus curse for a prolonged period of time.

She shrugged it off. "It's nothing, really. I think it's just the change in the weather pressure. I think it's supposed to storm tomorrow."

The timer on the oven began to buzz, and before Hermione could stand up, Ron beat her to the punch and gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed by her chair. Hermione turned and watched Ron pull the lasagna out of the stove, giggling slightly as he almost forgot to use the oven mitt but remembered just in time. He levitated the lasagna over to the table with a flick of his wand and chopped up the garlic bread, tossing them into a basket Hermione had all ready for them and carried them over to the table.

Slicing into the lasagna, Ron placed a serving onto Hermione's place, then one onto his. "I don't like it that you don't tell me when you aren't feeling good."

Hermione reached out and gave his forearm a gentle touch. "I didn't really start until I finished reading my book, and you were still asleep. Besides, what could you do about it?"

"I would have thought of something," Ron replied as he snagged three pieces of garlic bread from the basket. "I could have, you know, rubbed your shoulders or something. Helped you relax."

Hermione smiled. "That's very sweet of you…and I may take you up on that offer later."

"Oh yeah?" he asked with a cheeky smirk.

She took a sip of her wine and gave Ron a wink, causing his cheeks to blush as red as his unruly mop of hair.

Dinner was pleasantly quiet with just the two of them, talking about anything and everything. Ron told her more about the time he'd spent with her parents while she was gone at Hogwarts, and Hermione told him all about her plans to create a new message to spread to the Wizarding world about werewolves and how she would separate fact from fiction and make it so that wolfsbane potion would be properly mass produced and readily available in every apothecaries in every wizarding village. He couldn't help but find her enthusiasm endearing when she found something to be passionate about, even if it was something as mental as freeing house elves. Thankfully, she had come to terms that freeing the elves were actually causing the elves more grief than good, but the laws she was helping set in place to make sure that they were treated properly instead of like property were going to be revolutionary.

Hermione shook her head and laughed as Ron heaped a third helping of lasagna onto the place. "Honestly Hermione, of all the things you make well, this might be the best," he said with a mouthful, only understandable by those who were well versed in translating Weasley-speak when food's involved. "I'm glad you liked it," she said with a grin.

"Love it," Ron corrected after he swallowed. "You keep this up I'm going to become a big fat lump."

"I figure your auror workouts will help balance it all out," she teased.

"I reckon you're right about that," Ron replied with a chuckle. "Though I've been slacking a bit now that I'm in the office all day. I've been thinking about starting back up with the guys at the gym this summer, if you don't mind me being home late on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I don't mind at all."

The two of them cleaned up dinner together, snacking on cookies that Jean sent home with them for dessert, neither of them hearing the sound of the floo in the living room. Ron had tried to clean up himself, insisting that Hermione just sit and watch because of her headache, and after she deliberately ignored his pleading requests, he snagged her by the waist and picked her up, placing her on top of the granite countertop.

"Just sit," he said, using his serious voice. "You made dinner. I can clean it up."

"A headache doesn't make me incapacitated," Hermione tried to explain.

His hands placed firmly on the tops of her thighs, he leaned in and kissed her, squeezing his hands ever so slightly as he felt her arms move up and around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Yeah - Hermione looks _really_ sick."

Both of them jumped back with a start, finding Harry and a scowling Ginny standing in the doorway of kitchen. Ron, standing with his back to Hermione now, almost as if he was her protector, rolled his eyes at his sister. "She has a migraine, and you know she doesn't like being in loud places when she has one."

"But we were going to sample cakes tonight!" Ginny exclaimed. "She's my maid of honor so she has to help!"

"Hermione doesn't even _like _cake!" Ron retorted. "When have you ever seen Hermione eat cake!"

Ginny shook her head. "Hermione eats cake! Everybody eats cake! Who doesn't bloody eat cake!"

"Hermione doesn't," Harry replied, looking positively exhausted.

"And I really have a migraine," Hermione added, her hands resting on Ron's shoulders. "We still have time to pick out the perfect cake, Ginny."

Still scowling, Ginny huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You were still supposed to come tonight."

"Ginny…" Hermione said with a heavy sigh. "Don't take this the wrong way…but we just needed a break this weekend."

Looking at Hermione and her brother incredulously, Ginny could hardly speak for a moment, but eventually regained the ability to do so. "You need a break? You? _I_ need a break! This entire wedding is spiraling out of control and no one can stop it!"

"You can stop it!" Ron exclaimed. "Merlin, Ginny - you look miserable! Both of you do! For Merlin's sake it's supposed to be a wedding and it's turning into a bloody circus! You and Mum have completely gone overboard!"

Suddenly, Ginny burst into a fit of tears and ran right into her brother, sobbing fat tears into his chest. Ron instinctively hugged his little sister close, looking over at Harry who seemed to just be at a loss about everything. But he knew this, based on their whiskey-fueled conversation last night. _I want to marry her more than anything_, Harry emphatically told him. _I just don't think everyone and their mother needs to witness it. There are people on that guest list I don't even know, and I don't think she knows them either!_

"Shhh," Ron whispered, rubbing Ginny's back. "Come on, Gin. It'll be alright."

Showing no signs of calming down, he looked over his shoulder at Hermione, who nodded in response. Grabbing a couple of cookies from the bag, she showed them to Harry, and the two walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ron alone to console his sister.

* * *

"George was brilliant about his whole eloping plan," Harry said after swallowing a mouthful of cookie.

"That was my idea, actually," Hermione teased as the two of them sat on the couch in the living room. She sat on the end of the couch where Ron usually sat, a Molly Weasley original knit blanket draped over her lap. Ron always used it when he dozed off on the couch. The lights were dimmed in the living room and the curtains were closed in an attempt appease the dull thumping in her head. "I'm sure everything will calm down," she reassured Harry as she sat sideways on the cushion, leaning her head into the plush backside of the couch and her back against the arm.

Harry nodded, taking another bite. He looked over at Hermione, watching as she closed her eyes and kept them closed for several moments, and felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Once he defeated Voldemort, the pain of his scar, and other haunting memories disappeared, but his friends came out of the war with scars they didn't have when they started. "Are you sure you wouldn't feel better if you went upstairs to lie down?"

"I'm fine," she said with a hint of exasperation as she opened her eyes.

Harry gave her a wry smile. "I'm sorry you and Ron have been sucked into all of this."

"We're family, Harry," Hermione replied kindly. "It's what we do. But I just think that maybe some of the stress is exacerbated by the fact that second of May is in a week, and just like last year, Molly always works herself up into a bit of a tizzy in the weeks and days leading up to the actual day."

Harry nodded. "I guess, but you would think that the wedding would be a welcomed distraction."

"Except she's channeling everything she's feeling into the wedding, thus driving the rest of us completely crazy."

"Yeah, probably," he agreed. "But I can't tell if Ginny's a mess because Molly's a mess, or if Ginny's a mess because maybe she's having second thoughts."

"There's no way Ginny's having second thoughts," Hermione said. "Absolutely not."

"I don't know, Hermione. The things she's been stressing out about lately…"

Hermione gave him a look and shook her head. "She is about to marry the savior of the wizarding world," she said, sitting up a bit. "And even if you hate that phrase, or hate that everyone thinks that way about you, it's true. And while you don't care, and Ginny certainly doesn't care, it has to be a lot of pressure regardless! I know Molly is in a crazy, overbearing mode right now, but she's just as much your mother as she is Gin's and she wants everything to be perfect, and Ginny can't walk five feet without seeing some sort of rubbish in the wizard mags about her not being good enough to marry you instead of talking about how brilliant she's doing this year with the Hollyhead Harpies, and I'm sure it's just been slowly building up over these past months."

"But anyone who knows me knows that I don't want anyone _but_ Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. "I love her. I've always loved her."

"She knows that," Hermione reassured him. "But it's still a lot of pressure for a nineteen year old girl."

"I guess you're right," Harry said with a dejected sigh. "I take it this is why you and Ron aren't in a rush."

Hermione shrugged. "We know where we stand with each other," she said. "I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him…and I also know the moment we get married Molly will ask about grandchildren. I'd rather her nag us about getting married at this point then when I'm going to add to the Weasley brood. There are things Ron and I still want to do before we jump into that next phase." She pulled the blanket up over one of her shoulders and sighed. "Everything will work out, Harry. It always does."

"I know," Harry said. "I just wish everything would calm down."

"It will," Hermione reassured him. "Maybe not until after the wedding, but it will calm down." Shifting in her seat, she covered a yawn with the back of her hand. "Maybe you guys should take a holiday."

"Like a pre-honeymoon holiday?"

"Or a we-should-collect-our-sanity-before-we-spontaneous ly-combust holiday," Hermione rattled with a laugh. "Just go! Ron and I did back in the fall. Mind you, we weren't stressed, we just decided to do it, but it was _wonderful!_" She threw off the blanket and got up from the couch. Clicking the end table lamp on, she reached underneath the coffee table for the basket that held photo albums, and handed Harry a thick book filled with all the pictures she took from Greece. "It was really the best time. We were cut off from everyone, and had nothing to do but explore, eat delicious food, walk in the ocean -"

"And sex?" Harry teased.

Hermione blushed. "You know I won't dignify that with an answer."

"I know - I just wanted to see you blush."

She leaned over and smacked him in the arm. "Tosser!"

Harry laughed as he opened up the photo album. "Are there pictures of you in your bikini, or does Ron have all of those in his desk drawer?"

She blushed again. "I'll have you know I'm appropriately dressed in all of those photos, considering we showed our parents the pictures when we returned." Hermione bit her lip as she watched Harry leaf through the album for a few minutes before speaking again. "Ron has pictures of me in his desk?"

Harry chuckled. "I catch him looking at them every now and then. Some of these that are in here are in frames on his desk, but there's one of you in a bikini he keeps in his top desk drawer. He left it out on accident once right after you two came back, and Seamus came in and saw it, made some comment about not realizing that _that's_ what was hiding underneath your school robes, and he hauled off and decked him in the face."

"I saw the picture - I never took you for a skimpy bikini kind of girl."

"Well I didn't buy it for anyone else but Ron," Hermione retorted. "And it was a tasteful bikini, thank you very much. We stayed in a private villa, and there wasn't anyone on our part of the beach. I was in a tasteful one piece when we were around people."

Hermione closed her eyes, thinking back to when they came back from Greece, remembering that Ron came home from work one day with his hand bruised. _Intern auror training exercise ran a muck today,_ _he told her as she mended his hand. _"Well, Seamus knows that Ron is a jealous git when it comes to me, so he was really asking for it."

"You're condoning violence now?"

"I am if Seamus is going to make inappropriate remarks about me," Hermione retorted with her nose up in the air. "Regardless, I think you and Ginny should take a holiday. Just remove yourselves for a week and when you come back, you'll have enough sanity restored to survive until the big day."

Harry continued to leaf through the photo album. "Maybe you're right…maybe we need a week away."

"You won't regret it," Hermione encouraged. "Just pack up and go."

Harry nodded and stood up, placing the album on top of the coffee table. "I'm going to go check on her."

She settled back into the couch, smiling as she felt Harry give her shoulder a squeeze as he left her alone in the living room. By the time she woke up, she found herself leaning against Ron's chest, his arm draped around hers as he leaned back against the couch, channel surfing the telly with his feet propped up on the coffee table. She smiled as she felt him lightly kiss the top of her head. She wondered how long she'd been sleeping, and how many times he'd kissed the top of her head during that time. Hermione gave his arm a slight squeeze as she sighed. "What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock," Ron replied. "You've been asleep for about two hours."

"Harry and Ginny ok?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, they're alright. I told Ginny those two needed a holiday from Mum."

She laughed slightly. "I told Harry they needed a holiday too."

"Great minds think alike," Ron replied as he gave her a squeeze with the arm around her. "You feeling better?"

"I am," she said, and she was. The dull roar in her head from earlier was gone."

"I still want to know when you aren't feeling good," Ron said, a hint of either irritation or disappointment in his voice.

Hermione wasn't sure which one it really was, but she could tell he was unhappy either way. "I'm fine," she promised him. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't tell you because I really just thought it was the weather."

"It's alright," Ron said, his tone a little lighter.

She shifted in his hold so that she could look up at him, reaching a hand up to scratch the side of his jaw. "I didn't make any dessert tonight," Hermione said. "But I know that the ice cream shop down the street is open until nine o'clock.

Ron grinned. "Ice cream, eh?"

She shrugged. "The sun is starting to stay out longer. Maybe we could go for a walk while we're at it."

"Maybe we could," Ron replied, letting go of Hermione so she could sit up. "I reckon it's a probably a perfect night for it."

With shoes slipped on and jackets snagged, Hermione slipped into her black cardigan, holding Ron's jacket in her hand as he locked up the house. He tossed his coat on as the two walked down the front steps of their house and hooked a left to head to the center of Ottery St. Catchpole, where a night of ice cream, walking, and hand holding awaited them.


	5. Chapter 5

_**So...I know it's shorter than my other H/R one shots...but I'm ok with it. I needed to write something other than my Quidditch Cup Challenge fic because my head is just muddled with it. I needed to write something that I wanted to write. I hope you enjoy it!**_

* * *

"I cannot believe we're doing this."

"Hermione, if you don't want to -"

"No, we'll do it, if it will make you feel more comfortable."

Ron stood behind Hermione and squeezed her shoulders. While he'd been able to scale back on the raids he went on at work, some of the missions involved still involved him manning the command center at the Ministry, as he was often the orchestrator of the mission tactics. "It's not just about me," Ron said. "I think it'll make you feel better too. Especially when I have to be at the Ministry all night."

Hermione bit her lip as the two of them stared at the puppies inside the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. They'd been talking about getting a dog for awhile now, and a few months back, Hermione agreed that they could seriously consider getting a dog once they were done being occupied by the chaos that was Ginny and Harry's wedding. Hermione didn't expect Ron to bring up the dog the weekend following the wedding, but he did, and she was reminded that she made a promise. There were all sorts of puppies, staring back at them with their "pick me!" faces, and Hermione wasn't even sure how she would choose one out of the lot.

"We need a big dog," Ron said, looking at one of the descriptor tags. "What sort of dog was Fang again?"

"Hagrid's dog?" Hermione asked, slightly terrified. "It was a boarhound. Don't you think that's a bit excessive?"

"I want it to _protect you_," Ron emphasized. "We can't get some little yappy thing what won't bloody do anything except maybe bark itself to death." He moved from behind her, scanning the kennels and suddenly stopped. "Hey - this is a half boarhound half mastiff. I reckon that'll get plenty big." He unlatched the kennel door and pulled the small puppy out of the kennel. He was a reddish brown color with white spots on his paws that he would eventually grow into. "Look how cute he is, Hermione!"

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from grinning. Ron had always wanted a dog, but the Burrow had seven kids, two adults, and absolutely no room for a dog. Ron always told Hermione that if he had a knut for every time his mother rattled off the reason as to why they couldn't have a dog, he would be as wealthy as a Malfoy. She reached out and scratched the puppy behind his ears as he leaned his little head up and licked Ron's chin. "He is sweet," she admitted. "But how big is _big_?"

"That puppy there, if you ever have children, could probably ride it like a small horse once it's full grown," a worker in the Magical Menagerie interjected. "Sorry," he added, holding his hands up as they turned their attention to the young kid wearing a blue work apron. "I didn't mean to butt in."

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "It's not a problem."

"It's just…not every day you find two war heroes in your shop," the shopkeeper added, a bit bashfully. "My name is Billy Michaels. I work here in the summertime."

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, shaking the kid's hand with a free hand as he kept a cuddle hold on the puppy.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, following Ron's lead. "And are you serious about this dog becoming the size of a small horse?"

Billy nodded. "A bit smaller than a Shetland pony, but if you're looking for a loyal and protective sort of dog, you've got a real winner right there."

Hermione didn't look convinced. "Fang was a gigantic baby, if I recall correctly."

Ron rolled his eyes. "He belonged to Hagrid and was practically the oldest dog on the planet when we were in school. He wasn't a big baby - he was just too tired to care."

Sighing, Hermione watched as the puppy had clearly taken a liking to Ron, and the feeling was clearly mutual as the puppy was now on his back, letting Ron scratch his soft belly. "If this dog gets to be the size of a small horse," Hermione said, looking at Billy. "Will it be safe for children to be around? We have a niece and two nephews and I don't want them to be trampled."

"Of course!" Billy exclaimed. "These dogs are very nurturing and like I said, big protectors. I have a dog like this in my house, and he's been with me since I was a little one and sometimes it acts like a mother - barking when my brothers and I were up to no good. If you train them properly, they'll be the best dogs you ever have."

Ron looked over at Hermione with pleading eyes. Knowing there wasn't any way they were leaving the shop without the dog, Hermione walked over to Ron and touched the puppy's soft paws. "This is the one you want."

"Yes," Ron whispered. "Please?"

Laughing, she gave him a nod and looked back over at Billy. "Show me what sorts of accessories we're going to need for this puppy?"

"Absolutely - right this way!"

* * *

"Dog!" Teddy plopped his three-year-old bum on the floor of the living room in Ron and Hermione's house a few weeks later, and the puppy clumsily galloped faster than his too big paws could carry him towards the small boy that would undoubtedly give him lots of affection. "Dog, Daddy! Dog!"

Harry nodded; laughing as Teddy giggled with every lick his new friend gave him. "I can't believe she let you get a dog," he said to Ron as the two sat on the couch. He and Ginny had just returned from their honeymoon, staying in the south of France for two weeks, then wine country in Italy for the other two. "What's his name?"

"Chudley," Ron boasted. He leaned over and pulled back on Chudley's orange collar a bit so that the puppy wouldn't lick Teddy to death. "Be easy, Chuds. He's just a little bloke."

Chudley appeared to understand his master's words, and curled up next to Teddy, laying his big head in Teddy's lap, much to the delight of Teddy as he gently pet his head. "Nice dog. Nice dog," he whispered repeatedly.

"I cannot believe Hermione caved on the dog," Harry repeated with a laugh. "And naming it Chudley too."

Ron smirked. "It took some convincing, but I can be persuasive when I want to be."

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, no offense, mate, but I don't want to hear how that works for you."

Ron's cheeks tinged red as he gave Harry a good shove in the arm. "Shut it, Harry."

Laughing, Harry fiddled with his wedding bang, spinning it on his ring finger with his thumb. He leaned forward and ruffled the top of Teddy's bright green hair and smiled. "I had no idea how much I was going to miss this guy when we were gone. At one point, I thought Ginny was going to leave and bring him back to me."

Teddy had become a pretty permanent fixture in Harry's life, and lived with him and Ginny half the time once Ginny finished up school at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione of course helped out, babysitting when both their friends and Andromeda needed them two, and they both adored the little boy, but Teddy referred to Harry and Ginny as Daddy and Mummy. "I reckon if I was as close to Teddy as you are, I'd feel the same," Ron sympathized with Harry. "How's Andromeda doing?"

"Alright," Harry replied. "She's tired a lot…Teddy wears her out now that he's talking and running and no longer a baby. Ginny and I have been meaning to talk to her about Teddy living with us full time. Not because we don't think she can handle it, but because we'd like for her to enjoy being a grandmother."

"Makes sense," Ron agreed. "How do you think she'll take the suggestion?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I was planning on having dinner with just her later this week to talk about it."

Ron nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Daddy?"

Harry looked over at Teddy and helped his son crawl up into his lap. "What, buddy?"

"I hungry," Teddy said, patting his belly for good measure. "Snack?"

Harry laughed. "We just ate lunch, buddy. How are you still hungry?"

"Please?" Teddy begged with a grin, his hair morphing from a bright green to Harry's shade of black. "Please Daddy?"

Ron stood up from the couch and scooped up his honorary nephew before Harry could answer. "Uncle Ron has ice cream in the kitchen. Do you want ice cream?"

Teddy pumped his little fists in the air. "Yes! Yes Unca Ron! Ice cream!"

"My wife is going to kill you if he doesn't go down for a n-a-p later," Harry warned with a chuckle, following the two while Chudley trotted behind them.

Ron scoffed. "If my sister wanted to stop me, then she shouldn't be hiding upstairs gossiping with Hermione. What are those two talking about, anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "After all these years, I don't ask questions when one of them violently grabs the other and drags them into another room. I just assume that I'll eventually be told."

* * *

"Do it again."

"You can't be serious."

"Just one more time, Hermione."

She looked at her friend as the two of them stood in the middle of the master bathroom, Ginny's hands on her bare hips as she stood there in nothing but her jeans and her bra. Sighing, Hermione pointed her wand at Ginny's belly button and muttered the spell again, watching without any sort of surprise as her lower abdomen glowed bright blue. "You're pregnant, Ginny."

Ginny sighed. "I know." She grabbed her shirt from the sink and threw it back on over her head and sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "I mean, we want kids, and we definitely want a sibling for Teddy, I just…I don't know. We decided I'd stop taking my potion. I just didn't think it'd happen so soon after the wedding."

Hermione wanted to tell her friend that by not taking her potion, she was asking to get pregnant, but suppressed the urge to give her a contraception lecture. "Are you worried about how Harry will take it?"

"Maybe, no, I don't know," Ginny rattled, her face in her hands. "I should probably go to a healer, but I don't even know how to go to one without it being in the bloody press."

"Well, maybe you can see my Muggle doctor," Hermione suggested. "I still see her when it comes to those parts of the body, and she's near my dad's dental clinic - which is nowhere near any sort of Ministry entrance."

Ginny looked up at Hermione, somewhat hopeful. "Would you go with me?"

"Me? What about Harry?"

"I mean, to just find out for sure," Ginny said.

Hermione grimaced. "I think Harry should go, Gin. Especially if you are pregnant…he wouldn't want to miss that."

Ginny sighed. "You're probably right."

Hermione leaned over and gave her best friend a supportive hug. When she stood back up, she could hear the jingle of Chudley's tags on his collar as he trotted into the bedroom. Popping her head out of the bathroom, she saw Chudley's face get excited as he galloped towards her, barking. "Shhh!" Hermione said, scooping up the puppy and walking back into the bathroom. "There's no need to bark."

Chudley licked Hermione's face.

"Or licking," Hermione minded her furry baby.

"Oh my Merlin, Hermione, he's so cute!" Ginny cooed. "I can't believe you let Ron get a dog!"

Hermione sighed, handing the puppy over to Ginny. "Yes well, you're brother can be…convincing…when he wants to be."

Ginny stifled a snort. "Nice. What's his name?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Chudley."

"Chudley!" Ginny exclaimed with a laugh. "Hermione, you realize that's the name he's always wanted to name a dog!" She stood up from the edge of the tub and gave Hermione a big hug, with the puppy in the middle. "Hermione…I just…I literally couldn't have picked a better person for my favorite brother." She let go of Hermione and gave Chudley a kiss on the nose before putting him down. "I mean, I know you know Ron's always wanted a dog, but I don't think you can really understand _how much_ he wanted a dog."

Blushing, Hermione snapped at Chudley and he obediently followed the two women out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Chudley hopped up the miniature steps Ron built for him and curled up next to Ginny as she sat on the end of the bed. Hermione sat down on the other side of Chudley, which he then took as an invitation to immediately get up and settle down in Hermione's lap. She feigned a sigh of irritation, but eventually crisscrossed her legs to be more accommodating to the pup. Despite her attempts at acting nonchalant about the newest member of her family, Hermione did enjoy having the company, especially when Ron worked late, and the two times he worked overnight since they bought him. "Silly Chudley," she softly murmured, scratching behind his ears.

Ginny looked over at Hermione and sighed. "Sometimes I wish I would have listened to you."

"Me?"

"You know…when you were on that whole kick about us being too young."

Hermione frowned slightly. "Ginny…any time you asked me that question, I replied as if it were me in your situation. You and I are two entirely different people."

"I know…I just…I don't know. I thought when the wedding was over I would stop feeling so overwhelmed, and now this, and we're getting ready to see if Andromeda will let us have Teddy all the time so she won't have the burden of being a parent and now…if I'm having a baby…I don't know, Hermione. Do you think we're still crazy?"

Hermione shrugged. "Are you happy?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed with a fervent nod. "I've never been happier!"

"Well then what are you so worried about?" Hermione bluntly asked. "You know the moment you go downstairs and tell Harry you're pregnant he's going to be as happy as Ron was the day I said yes to this dog right here in my lap."

Ginny nodded, swiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "I know he will be. I just…I guess I thought I'd been taking the potion for so long that it wouldn't have happened _that_ quick. Then again…we did have a lot of sex on our honeymoon -"

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, protectively placing her hands over Chudley's ears.

"What!" Ginny cried. "I mean, we are each other's best friend - we're going to eventually need to be able to talk about our sex lives."

Hermione vehemently shook her head. "No. No-no-no. No. Ron is your brother and Harry may as well be mine and there are just things I don't _ever _want to know about Harry."

"No, really," Ginny encouraged. "I can totally pretend that Ron isn't my brother. Go on. Try me."

She bit the inside of her cheek, and Chudley looked up at her, as if he too was waiting to see if she would give Ginny's suggestion a go. "Fine," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Sometimes, Ron, can do this thing with his tongue _and _his nose simultaneously -"

"Nope! Nope! I lied…nope, can't do it!" Ginny cut Hermione off, shaking her head vehemently, as if she'd witnessed a gruesome horror. "Don't say anymore."

Hermione clicked her tongue with a smug grin on her face. "Told you so."

"Yeah…yeah you did."

* * *

"Well it's about time you ladies joined the party," Ron said, a bite of ice cream dolloped onto his spoon as he leaned against the countertop as he held onto his bowl.

Teddy waved at Ginny and pointed at his bowl from his booster seat at the table. "Unca Ron has ice cream!"

"I see that," Ginny said, giving both Ron and Harry a look. "How much did you put in there?"

"One scoop," Ron said, crossing an 'x' over his heart with a swipe of his finger.

"And sprinkles!" Teddy cheered. "Yots of sprinkles!"

Ginny gave Ron a look, sighing when Ron responded with a mere shrug of the shoulders. "You know what happens when I don't have proper supervision," he said with a mouthful.

Hermione giggled, shuffling over towards Ron with Chudley right at her feet every step of the way. "May I have a bite?" she asked.

Ron gave her an uncertain look. "I don't know…there's a lot of sugar in here. Last I checked, my girlfriend wasn't a big fan of sweets."

"Just a little bite," Hermione said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

He carved a small bite from the half mountain that was still left in his bowl and fed it to Hermione. Chudley pawed at Ron's legs, standing up on his hind legs to see what he was missing. "You can't have a bite of this, Chuds," he said.

Hermione pecked Ron on the lips as a thank you and moved around him, reaching up for Chudley's treats in the cabinets. Pulling out a small, bone shaped biscuit; she knelt down to Chudley's level and gave him a serious look. "Sit."

Chudley promptly obeyed, looking as if he took his command quite seriously.

Grinning, she gave her puppy a treat and ruffled the fur on his head. "Good dog, Chudley. Good dog."

"Mummy? I have dog?"

Ginny, a wet paper town in hand, wiped off Teddy's ice cream covered face and cleaned up the rest of the mess with a wand. "Maybe someday," she said, picking him up out of his booster. "But for now you can play with Chudley, ok? Give me a kiss."

Teddy happily obliged, nuzzling his nose against her for good measure before she set him down to go scamper off after the dog. "I mished you, Mummy!" he called out to Ginny as he and Chudley ran into the living room.

Clapping a hand over her heart, Ginny felt herself getting overly emotional, which was noticed by both her over protective brother and her equally over protective husband. Hermione saw Ron moved to see what's wrong, but grabbed ahold of his upper arm, gently pulling him back. "It's ok," she mouthed.

Harry, looking rather worried, as his wife wasn't much of a crier, brushed her tears away with his thumbs as he cupped her face in his hands. "What's wrong, Gin?" he asked. "Why are you so upset?"

She shook her head no, pushing his hands away. "I'm not upset."

"No offense, Gin, but I beg to differ," Harry chuckled lightly. "Are you feeling sick? Do we need to leave? Because I can grab Teddy and -"

"I'm pregnant!" she blurted, clapping a hand over her mouth as if shoving the words back behind her lips were an option. "Damnit! I didn't mean to tell you like that. Bugger all to hell!"

Harry's face went from shock to pure elation in a matter of seconds, as he swung his arms around her middle and spun her around in the middle of the kitchen. "Oh wait!" he said, stopping suddenly. "I probably shouldn't swing you around - but are you serious? Are you really pregnant?"

Ginny bit her lips together for a moment, then spoke. "Hermione did the charm like, six times."

"Seven," Hermione corrected, her arms snugly wrapped around Ron's middle. "And you know I'm the best at charms."

Harry smirked. "Definitely better than me."

"And me," Ron agreed. "So if Hermione did it seven times, the next six times after the first was just _really_ redundant, Ginny. You great big mental case."

Ginny grinned, laughing as she swiped more tears away. "Shove off, Ron."

"You shove off, you crazy bird," Ron retorted with a laugh. "And honestly - is that any sort of way to speak? You're going to be a mother now, after all."

"She's already a mother," Hermione said.

"She certainly is," Harry agreed, wrapping his wife up in another hug.


End file.
